


The Rules of the Games

by TheStrayOne



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of Crying, Loving hyungs, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kisses, Platonic Relationships, Protective Hyungs, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Sleeping Pills, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Yang Jeongin-centric, suicidal character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 16:43:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 62,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrayOne/pseuds/TheStrayOne
Summary: Jeongin's always liked playing games.  Even as he grows closer and closer to his adult years he still loves games.  He doesn't ever want to stop playing them.  So he doesn't.  He just changes how the games are played.  Changes their meaning and now they're something completely different than the original rules intended.  And he realizes that the games he's playing are killing him, but he can't bring himself to stop.  Because they're the only things that are keeping him going.The other members seem to be oblivious to his games.  And that just assures him that he's winning.





	1. Prologue: Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be dark. 
> 
> Warnings for: Self-harm, anorexia, bulimia, suicidal thoughts and actions, and depression.
> 
> Read at your own discretion

     It hurt. It hurt so much. Smiling. Laughing. Joking. Living. All of it. All of it hurt and he didn’t think he could take it anymore.

 

     He just wanted it all to go away. He didn’t want to smile anymore. He didn’t want to laugh anymore. He didn’t want to joke anymore. He didn’t want to live anymore. It all hurt too much. It hurt so much that he wondered why he didn’t just stop. Then he remembered his hyungs. He remembered their fans. He remembered all the people expecting their success. He remembered their managers expressing their praise after a good performance.

 

     He remembered why he kept smiling. That oh so fake smile he forced on his face everyday was for his hyungs and fans and the people watching them. He had to show his hyungs he was okay (he wasn’t, he wasn’t okay) so he smiled. He had to make the fans happy (but god forbid he ever be happy) so he smiled. He had to show all the people watching them all the good things (becuase the bad would ruin him-ruin them) so he smiled.

 

     He remembered why he kept laughing. That laugh that hurt so much to force out was for his hyungs because it showed his them that he was happy (he wasn’t happy) so he laughed. For the fans because they cheered for it (and it hid the tears he shed at night) so he laughed. For the people watching them because it proved that he was alright (he wasn’t-would never be alright) so he laughed.

 

     He remembered why he kept joking. The jokes he made about everything was for his hyungs so they would laugh (because they shouldn’t have to force it like him) so he joked. For the fans who only wanted to see the happy side of him (but there was no happy side) so he joked. For the people watching because that’s what they liked to see (but he hated it so so much) so he joked.

 

     He remembered why he lived. He lived for . . .

 

     No.

 

     He couldn’t remember why he lived anymore, or if he was even alive at all. He felt as though he was already dead. And if something is dead it can definitely not be living and he was not living so that must make him dead. There was no way he could be alive. He was just dead and he was letting his corpse be manipulated by those around him so that he seemed alive.

 

     But nobody needed to know that. Nobody needed to see how much it hurt. He couldn’t bring them down anymore than he already had.

 

     So he hid it.

 

     He got very good at hiding things.

 

     It had started off small.  Scratching at his thighs when things started to get to be too much, but hiding the marks carefully under longer shorts or pants.  

 

 

      Then, he started hiding more and the things he hid weren’t as small anymore.

 

     He hid the sleepless nights that were becoming more and more frequent. He hid the skipped meals and the ones that he forced back up if he he couldn’t hid it. He hid the tears that forced their way to his eyes in the dark of the night. He hid the lines marking their way up his thighs and hips which would immediately alert his hyungs that something wasn’t right. He hid the sleeping pills he found himself taking more and more often just to get a few minutes of sleep.

 

     And his hyungs never found the things he hid. He’d always been good at hiding. His smile was always so naturally bright and paired with a laugh, no one would ever think he was hiding. He was right there in front of them, after all. He was fine.

 

     This just assured him that he was hiding well.

 

     He’d crawled into the most obscure unthinkable imaginable. He wasn’t shrinking into some dark corner like most people did. He didn’t try and get to some impossible to get to place. He didn’t crawl into a small crevice. No. He didn’t do any of that because that was the first place people always looked.

 

     He hid right in front of their faces because no one would ever think someone would be stupid enough to hide there, but that was always the smartest strategy when playing hide and seek wasn’t it? It was too obvious to look right in front of you and no one ever thought to check the obvious. No one ever even thought to check the spaces that could easily be seen or reached and that’s why he hid there.

 

     Everyone always worried about the people who were quiet and hid in the dark corners. The ones who dressed in all black and isolated themselves. The people who said or did things that just didn’t seem normal. They worried about the people who hid in dark corners and crevices because they seemed to be the hardest to find. They seemed to be the ones who would take the longest to find.

 

     They never worried about the ones who talked. The ones who smiled and laughed. The ones who seemed to be happy and were putting themselves right in the open for everyone to see. Right out in the spotlight where it seemed impossible to hide.

 

    But darkness isn’t always bad nor is light always good.

 

     Because people always check the small, dark crevices, but they never check the bright open spaces. And that’s exactly why Jeongin’s chosen to hide there.

 

     The place where no one looks. Right in plain sight.  Right where his hyungs could easily find him but are too oblivious to look.  Because they’re off looking in the dark corners or for some cryptic, impossible to find sign or clue and they aren’t looking at what’s right in front of them shouting ‘I’m here! I’m here!’  

 

     They aren’t looking for Jeongin, who so desperately wants to be found, but at the same time, wants to never be seen again.  They aren’t looking right in front of them and therefore, they will never find him.  

 

       He will stay hidden until they’ve found everyone else and are all searching for him.  He’ll stay hidden until they give up and call ‘Ollie ollie oxen free!’  Then and only then will he reveal his hiding place, but, it’ll be to late.  

 

     Because that means he won the game.


	2. Quiet Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin plays many games. One of them is quiet mouse. He's just changed around his own definition of quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and right when I said I'd be. As I've said before, this story contains self-harm, anorexia, bulimia, depression, and suicidal thoughts. If you are sensitive to those kind of things, then please take caution when reading.

Jeongin was always the first to wake.  All the members knew that.  What they didn’t know was that he was also the last to go to sleep.

 

     He always said he went to bed early.  He put his phone away and lay down before everyone else, turning off all the lights in his shared room.  He evened out his breathing and he curled up under the blankets.  Sometimes, if he was feeling confident, he would even add in soft snores.  

 

    But, he was never actually asleep.  Not even close for that matter.  He would stare blankly at the wall next to his bed and focus on his facade.  He would make sure no one suspected that he was awake and he kept it up for an hour, two, sometimes even three or more.  

 

     And when everyone had decided it was time to go to bed and all the lights in the dorms were out, he would get up.   

 

     He was always silent about it.  He had to be.  Like in a game of quiet mouse.  

 

     He remembers teachers having them play the game when he was younger whenever the class got too noisy.  Whoever spoke during the game would be disciplined, usually being sent to time out, and whoever stayed the quietest the longest would receive a reward.  He’d always liked the game and was always good at it.

 

     He imagined that he was the mouse, creeping out of his whole in the middle of the night for a snack, and if he alerted the other members of his presence, he would surely be caught in their trap.  He didn’t want to be caught.  He didn’t want to be disciplined.  He wanted the reward.  Who wouldn’t?  So, he stayed completely silent.  Always.  

 

     Even during the day, though he spoke loudly, he was always staying silent.  Because no one questioned the loud ones.  

 

     Because the quiet ones were always the loudest and the loudest ones were the quietest.  

 

       The quiet ones didn’t speak or smile.  They hide away in the dark corners.  They didn’t even attempt to hide the emotions on their face.  They showed it off for everyone to see.  The wore it with something similar to pride.  But, the thing with being quiet was that they had nothing to hide their emotions.  No way to suppress what was going on deep down and they always cried the loudest.  That’s why the quiet ones always got help.

 

     The ones who were loud always spoke and smiled.  They allowed the attention to be put on them and didn’t try to shove it away like the quiet ones did.  They hid their emotions behind a facade of happiness and used it as a distraction from their real feelings.  They suppressed the overwhelming emotions that would eventually break free and they cried silently.  And most of all, they never got help.

 

     Jeongin, of course, didn’t need help.  At least, that’s what he told himself.  He told himself that he was okay over and over again.  He repeated it in his head hundreds of times throughout the day, but deep down he knew the real reason for hiding what he did at night.  

 

     It’s because he couldn’t make things any harder for his group members than it already was.  

 

     They were all exhausted with their recent debut.  They were physically emotionally drained and they didn’t have time to spare anything for him.  They shouldn’t have to deal with a burden like him, so he stayed quiet at night.  

 

     He would sneak his way to the bathroom and softy shut and lock the door behind him. Then he’d find the blade he kept well hidden under the sink.  It was taped to the underside near the back where no one would spare it a glance.  It was stained with blood and dulled due to overuse, but that just made it more painful to use.  More affective.  

 

      He’d slip off his shirt and pajama pants.  He’d look in the mirror and point out the things that were wrong with him.  With each flaw, he made a cut, adding to the many he already had.

 

      “I’m ugly,” he’d say in his head.  One cut on his thigh.  

 

      “I’m fat.” Another cut, on the other thigh this time.  

 

      “Clumsy.” Another cut, making his way up to his hips now.  

 

      “A burden.” Another cut.

 

      “Immature.” Another.  

 

      “A bad singer.” More.

 

      “Can’t dance.” Slicing deeper.

 

      “Can’t do anything right.” Longer.

 

      “I bring everyone down.”  More painful.  

 

      “I shouldn’t be in this group.” Faster.

  

      “I shouldn’t even be alive.” He ends.    

 

      His breaths are heavy and stuttering.  He can feel his heart racing but at the same time he feels overwhelmingly calm.  A plethora of cuts decorate his pale skin, painting his body in red.  Tears silently make their way down his cheeks, flushed from crying.  There are deep bags under his eyes, which seem so empty when he looks into them.

 

     He looks at himself in the mirror.  His ribs are poking at his skin but all he can see is the perceived fat he had from the time when he was stupid enough to think he looked good enough to be an idol.  His eyes are dark and beautiful but all he can see is how empty they are.  The skin of his face is pale and smooth but all he can see are the uneven cuts on his thighs and hips.  

 

      And as he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t find one good thing about himself.

 

      He stayed like that for a while.  Just looking at himself in the mirror.  Just staring at what he’d become.  Letting the crimson blood slowly drip down his legs and to the floor.  Watching as the tears start to dry in distinct tracks on his face.  The dark bags under his eyes seeming to have gotten darker.  Bruises slowly forming on his skin from overexertion and lack of proper nutrients.  

 

      He wouldn’t admit it at the time, but he knew he was destroying himself.  He knew that what he was doing wasn’t healthy.  He knew that the thoughts in his head were leading him down a dark path, but . . . 

 

      . . . he didn’t know how to stop.  And, if he was being honest, he didn’t think he wanted to.  

 

     Nothing else quieted the voices in his head.  Nothing else was as effective in making him forget his hate for himself.  Nothing else stopped the tears from falling.  

 

      So he didn’t stop. 

 

      At first, it had started small.  Scratching at his thighs when he was having trouble focusing or was having a bad day.  Wearing a rubber band around his wrist and snapping it when everything got to be too much.  Taking showers so cold that it hurt until he was numb to everything.  

 

      Then it escalated.  Not anything big.  Just one or two experimental cuts every once and a while.  Every few nights or so he would sneak out of bed when everyone else was asleep to just look at them.  The cuts were never really deep enough to scar.  They always healed within a few days.  

 

      It was only a matter of time before he found himself having to use this method more often.  The cuts got deeper and he found himself frequently making late night trips to the bathroom.  But it was only recently that he’d started cutting so much that, by the time he was done, his legs were painted in red and it was dripping to the floor.  

 

     He found the clean up annoying but learned to deal with it.  

 

     He made quick work of rinsing the blood off his legs, still being silent.  He easily bandaged the cuts, not even bothering too clean them first.  He taped the blade back under the sink using a spare bandaid before sneaking to the kitchen and grabbing a few paper towels to clean the blood off the floor.  

 

     There was a sickening sense of normality with it all.  

 

     After cleaning the floor, he washed his face, making sure to wipe away the tear stains.  He then reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that he kept with the the countless other over the counter medicines, face creams, and other personal hygiene items in the cabinet.  He made sure that they wouldn’t be questioned.  A small bottle hidden amongst countless other remedies.  And he knew that they were noticed.  They would have to be at least a few times, but, no one would think much of it because everyone went through occasional boughts of insomnia and they just didn’t seem out of place.  

 

     They were quiet.  Just like him.  They’d be noticed, but never questioned.  

 

     He opened the bottle, quickly tossing back two pills with a small sip of water from the sink.  He then, quietly, made his way back to his shared room and lying back down.  He lay there for around thirty minutes before the pills took affect.  

He would manage to get and hour or two of restless sleep before he would wake up, either due to a nightmare or his body being used to his lack of a proper sleep schedule.

 

      When he woke up in the morning, around an hour earlier than everyone else, he was exhausted.  His eyes threatened to droop shut but he would not be able to go back to sleep.  Even if he did, it wouldn’t be for long.  Without the sleeping pills, a nightmare was guaranteed to come.  

 

      His nightmares were so vivid and terrifying that he’d rather stay awake for a year before having to suffer through one.  So he always made sure to stay awake if he didn’t have the pills to put him to sleep.  The few nights that they didn’t work or he ran out, he would stay in the shower almost all night, letting the freezing cold water run over him until he he wasn’t tired anymore.  Occasionally, he would sneak out to the dance or recording studio for most of the night, but he didn’t do it often since he knew he would be in trouble if his hyungs woke up and he wasn’t there.

 

      Despite his inability to sleep, getting through the night was the easy part.  One routine trip to the bathroom to slice his leg, shower with freezing water, toss back some sleeping pills, or perhaps to purge any food he’d eaten and he was good to go.  

 

      It was the mornings that were the hard part.  

 

     He woke up at least an hour before everyone else.  There was no Seungmin running around, full of energy even after just waking up.  No Changbin grumbling about having to wake up early for schedules.  No Chan rushing them to get ready and eat so they would leave on time.  None of the normal noise that flooded the dorm during the day to distract him from his thoughts.  

 

      It was just silent.  Just like him.  Noticed but not questioned.  Loud but still quiet.  

 

     No one would be up at the same time he did.  It was far too early.  They all needed rest to keep up with grueling dance practices and long vocal lessons.  They slept peacefully and had no reason to get up as early he did, so once again, he found himself playing quiet mouse.  

 

     But, during the mornings, it was different.  He welcomed the silence of the night, thankful to be away from all the noise for a few hours, but the silence of the morning was awful.  It was nearly unbearable.  He couldn’t stand it at all.  

 

     His mind was always, not a lot, but more aware in the mornings.  He was more aware of his own self-hate and his flaws.  He was more aware of how much he failed and what he was doing wrong.  By the time night rolled around, he was much too tired to really think long on one particular thing, but in the mornings it’s all he could think about.  

 

      One more than one occasion he’d had to force himself to calm down lest he have a panic attack and wake everyone up and he couldn’t do that.  Everyone was already so exhausted.  They shouldn’t have to waste time they could use to rest on him.  He wasn’t worth it.  Their wellbeing was much more important than his own, so he played quiet mouse.  

 

     He played quiet mouse for an hour, sometimes more depending on when his mind forced him from sleep.  He made sure that any tears that he may have shed in that time were wiped away and any evidence of their being there covered with a thin layer of makeup.  He didn’t particularly enjoy wearing makeup so he always made sure it wasn’t noticeable or else his hyungs would suspect something was wrong.  He made sure to get dressed before everyone was up, always always making sure the cuts couldn’t be seen peaking out from whatever he wore.  

 

     By the time everyone else as up, he was ready for the day and waited for the rest of them. 

 

     By seven, everyone was up and getting ready.  Chan had gotten up thirty minutes earlier to make breakfast for them but other than that, most of them were just waking up.  Seungmin and Woojin were both quick to wake up and were ahead of most of the other members.  Only minutes later, the two of them joined Jeongin at the table.  

 

     He didn’t want to eat.  He honestly didn’t think he could, even if he wanted to, but he couldn’t keep avoiding it.  He couldn’t keep using the excuse ‘I’m not hungry’ or ‘I was hungry so I ate earlier’ forever.  He was fairly sure that Changbin and Chan were both slightly suspicious, the two of them already being very protective of him, and he had to prove to them that he was fine, no matter how difficult.  

 

     One by one, the rest of the group joined the three at the table, and soon, Chan announced that breakfast was ready.  They were ahead of schedule for once and it seemed as though they were taking advantage of it as no one shoveled the food down like they normally did.  They talked and joked happily, Jeongin making sure to join in with them.  

 

     He could feel Chan’s and Changbin’s eyes on him every so often so he took a few small bites.  He chewed very slowly, the food tasting amazing but feeling like acid going down.  He finished about half his plate before he decided he couldn’t eat anymore.  He pushed his plate away and decided it would be good time to tune into the conversation, but the minute he did, Chan looked towards him.  

 

     “Are you done already?” the leader asked, a tiny hint of concern lingering somewhere in his voice.  

 

      Jeongin nodded in response.

 

     “You didn’t eat a lot.  Are you not feeling well?” Woojin asked.  

 

      “I’m fine. I’m just trying to cut back a bit,” Jeongin replied calmly, even though he really wanted to scream.  He wanted to shout that he did eat a lot.  That he was making himself fatter than he already was, but he didn’t.  He was playing quiet mouse.  “Trying to get rid of some baby fat.”  He paired the sentence with a smile that no one would question.  

 

     The two smiled back, along with the rest of the group.  Their was fondness in their eyes, but he couldn’t see it.  

 

     “Our maknae is working so hard!” Jisung said happily while ruffling the younger’s hair.

 

     Jeongin bit his lip and gave a shy smile.  He let his hyungs fawn over him, telling him how proud they were of him.  How he was working so hard.  He let the attention be put on him and stay on him.  Because that’s how the game was played.  

  

     He didn’t tell them about how they shouldn’t be proud.  How they should hate him for bringing everyone down.  He didn’t tell them that he wasn’t working hard enough.  How several extra hours a day at the dance studio and several more at the recording room with no food and very little water wasn’t enough.  He didn’t shove the attention away or bring it to how he really felt because if he wanted to win the game, that is what he had to do.

 

     He was very proud of his excuse.  Not only did it keep him from having to eat, but it would stop his hyungs from questioning him on it.  Now he just had to get rid of the food he’d eaten.  

 

     He excused himself from the table and made his way to the bathroom.  He was thankful that the bathroom was on the opposite side of the dorm from the kitchen.  It wouldn’t be hard to cover up the sound of retching from there.  

 

      Jeongin shut and locked the door behind him.  He turned on the faucet and bent over the toilet.  He tipped his head back, forcing two fingers down his throat.  He felt himself gag and lurched forward, expelling the small breakfast he’d eaten.  Then, he repeated until he was sure there was nothing else left in him.  

 

      He’d mastered keeping his retches quieter than normal and was positive that no one had heard him.  He’d done it so many times before and he’d never been caught.  It was the same every time and no one ever heard him because he was playing quiet mouse. 

 

      After he was done, he sprayed some air freshener, brushed his teeth, and popped a mint into his mouth just to be safe.  Then, he casually walked back out to the rest like he hadn’t just purged his breakfast.  

 

     He liked counting the days he managed to avoiding eating or purged his food before it could become fat.  It made him feel like he was actually doing something to help the group.  He was up to four now.  He could feel his body protesting and knew he would have to eat something at some point but he wanted to beat his record, five days, which meant he only had two more to go.  It wouldn’t be that hard.

 

     If he could manage four, then he could get to six.  Only two days.  Forty-eight hours.  That was it and then he would reward his body with something.  Perhaps an apple, something that wouldn’t add to his useless fat.  

 

     But until then, water would be enough.  It got him to four days.  Five in the past.  It could get him to six.  He just had to stay strong for two more days, then he would give in to his hunger.

 

    He got his bag and followed the rest of his members out to the van that was waiting for them outside.  Everyone was awake now and talking happily.  It’d taken a while, but the company had finally eased up their schedules a bit, so it was no surprise that everyone felt a little more energetic than usual.  

 

     Of course, Jeongin was still exhausted, but he had mastered not letting it show.  It was something that they’d all had to learn how to do.  They couldn’t go to fanmeets looking ready to pass out.  They couldn’t do concerts stumbling over their own feet due to exhaustion, so hiding his lack of sleep had become increasingly easy.  

 

    He climbed into the car, sitting in between Woojin and Seungmin in the back. The two were being a bit on the loud side and he could already feel a headache coming on from lack of sleep.  He knew the noise wasn’t going to make it any better but he didn’t let it show.  Headaches were something that he was accustomed to at this point.

 

     He made sure to keep smiling like he always did despite the pain.  

 

     It wasn’t a very big smile, just a hint of one, but it would look odd if he constantly smiling as wide as he could.  Especially if there was nothing to really smile about.  He almost made the mistake of smiling as wide as he could when Felix and Minho got eliminated during the survival show because he always hid his behind his smile.  He needed to hide then more than ever.  

 

    The days that the two had been eliminated where the first two times he’d tried cutting because he couldn’t help but think it should’ve been him who was eliminated.  But he wouldn’t have come back like Felix and Minho because he doesn’t deserve to be in the group.  He kept smiling anyway though.  

 

      Smiling constantly was almost second nature now.

 

       It was hard to find a time when he was not smiling.  Not when he was around other people at least.  He only let his smile fall when he was alone.  When no one would see because he couldn’t worry his hyungs.  He already caused enough problems for them as it was.  

 

       He made sure to do his best during dance practices and vocal lessons.  He didn’t need to make things any harder than they already were.  

 

      Even when it felt like he’d already given his heart, soul, mind, body, and whatever else he had to give, he still found a way to give more.

 

     It wasn’t easy.  Not even close.  He constantly felt like he was on the verge of passing out.  The exhaustion never seemed to leave him alone and he honestly was never sure if he would be able to make it through the day.  He always did, though, it was a struggle.  

 

     He’d never been the best dancer due to his clumsiness and being tired didn’t help.  He always gave his all anyway, knowing he would never be as good as his hyungs.  He stayed for several extra hours, saying that he was was just going to go over the dance a few more times before heading back and no one questioned it.  

 

     Even when he didn’t return until hours later.  They’d occasionally ask him where he’d been and he’d come up with some lie.  Usually that he’d gotten something to eat on the way back, or went to work on his vocals and lost track of time and they dropped it at that.  He was their constantly smiling maknae after all.  There was nothing wrong with him.  

 

     At least, nothing that they needed to know.

 

    When he was too tired to dance he spent a lot of extra time in the recording studio.  He figured if his dancing sucked he might as well make his voice half decent.  

 

      He strained his vocal cords for hours on end.  Chan had always described his voice as unique, praising them often, but Jeongin didn’t believe him.  He hated his voice.  Unique was just a nice way of saying bad or weird.  Even when Woojin helped him, his voice never improved.  So, he spent hours and hours singing and singing his lines until they were perfect, which they never seemed to be.

 

      If he wasn’t at the dance or recording studio, then he was at the gym.  They company allowed and encouraged them all to go to they gym and keep themselves in shape so he did.  He didn’t focus much on weight lifting like most guys did.  He focused on getting rid of his useless fat.  He didn’t need it and it made him ugly so he had to get rid of it, even if it hurt.  

 

      He did spend time at the dorm but that time was becoming less and less as time went on.  Between school and what he did in his freetime, he barely had time to really spend time with the other members.  Of course, no one really mentioned this except for when they were joking.  

 

     He was their happy smiling maknae so he couldn’t be sad.  There was nothing wrong with wanting alone time, especially since he was still a teenager.  They already spent most of the day with each other for their schedules.  It was normal for him to want to spend some time alone, so no one questioned it.

 

     They should have.  

 

* * *

 

 

     The van pulled up to the company building and the nine of them filed out of the car and inside.  Their schedules weren’t too intense since all they hype from their debut had calmed down a bit and they didn’t have any shows or concerts to go to.  That meant they only had dance practice for two hours and vocal practice for another two hours.  

 

     Nothing too intense.  Nothing like their debut schedules had been. 

 

      They made their way to the dance studio and quickly got ready to practice.  They didn’t want to waste anytime and have to stay late.  It’d happened before and none of them had been very happy.  From then on they got into the habit of getting straight into things. 

 

      They sat their bags down on the edges of the room, most of them pulling out water bottles or towels, knowing they’d probably need them later on.  Most of them were dressed in t-shirts and shorts, though a few of them wore loose sweatpants.  Jeongin, on the other hand, worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt, despite the warm weather.  

 

      He wanted to hide his body.  He was ugly.  He didn’t want people to see him.  

 

      “Jeonginnie, is that what you’re wearing for practice?” Minho asked.  Jeongin nodded in response.  

 

      “You’ll get too hot in that,” Woojin chided.  “Why didn’t you wear shorts or a t-shirt?”

 

       “They were all dirty,” Jeongin responded.  He gave a slightly embarrassed smile before continuing.  “I forgot to wash them.”  He laughed shyly after to top it all off.  He could see faces of concern change to ones of amusement.  

 

      “How did you manage to do that?” Changbin asked with a laugh.  “You’re role in the dorm is to do the laundry.”

 

     They all laughed, Jeongin making sure to hide behind his hands in faux embarrassment.  If he was being truthful, he couldn’t care less.  Telling a little white lie wasn’t bad, it was bad if he got caught in that lie.  That would be much too loud, and if he did, he would be caught.  

 

     But, he wouldn’t let that happen.  He’d learned what to do and say and what he needed to avoid.  It was simple, and after a bit of practice, he learned how to avoid all the mouse traps.  He would never fall for their bait, no matter how tempting it was.  

 

     He would never voice his thoughts, he would keep them all to himself and no one would know.  No matter how much he wanted to tell someone what was going on in his head, or how he was feeling, he never took the bait.  He always wanted to, longed to even, but never did.

 

     After a while, it became second nature to push  his feelings to the back of his mind and show them what they wanted to see.  

 

       A happy, smiling, maknae who was oblivious to all the bad in the world.

 

      That’s who he was.  The he, he forced himself to become.  There was no ‘Jeongin’ anymore, at least not when he was around others.  It was ‘I.N.’  Though people still called him by his old name, they were slowly catching on to the new him.  His members had started getting into the habit of calling him by his stage name, even when there were no cameras around, or when they weren’t in public, and he was thankful.  

 

     The old him, the one he’d forced deep down inside of him, only for it to escape while he was alone, was worthless.  The old him was a burden to all those who were close to him.  The old him, which was constantly trying to escape its prison, was forced to play quiet mouse.  The old him didn’t deserve to live, so he didn’t let it live.

 

     He killed it.  Slowly, painfully.  He tortured it to the point that it only wanted to cry out more.  To beg for anyone to come save it, but the new him forced it to stay quiet until he was alone, then he would let it scream all it wanted.  

 

     What he refused to acknowledge, was that it was still a part of him, it still _was_ him, he just covered it up.  He was ashamed of it, and so he was ashamed of himself and the new him as well.  So, he started killing the new him too, just in a different way.  

 

    He forced the new him to play quiet mouse as well.  

 

     Becuase, in order to play his version of quiet mouse, he had to be quiet in the right way.  

 

     The old him so desperately wanted to be loud.  To scream, cry, and beg for help, while the new him just wanted to be quiet.  The new him was afraid of revealing the old him so he wanted to stay quiet in case he accidentally said the wrong thing, got too loud.  But at the same time, if the new him was too quiet, the the screams of the old him would be heard so he had to be loud.  

 

    He forced himself to be something he wasn’t.  He forced himself to be happy, even if it was only just for a few hours.  And everyone believed it.  They believed the new him and his smiles.  Nobody questioned the new him or bothered to search for the old one.  

 

      And so, when the old him wanted to scream, he forced it to stay quiet and talked loudly as the new him.  He forced them both to play quiet mouse, slowly killing himself.  

 

     He knew he was killing himself, but he wouldn’t stop.  He never would.  Because his group members deserved to be happy and he couldn’t burden them with his own self-hate.  He couldn’t make things harder for them so he kept on killing himself.  

 

     And after a while, he found that he didn’t care.  He didn’t care about how he lost so much blood when he cut that he would barely be able to see straight.  He didn’t care about eating, or how his body begged for food.  He didn’t care about himself anymore.  He did’t care about living anymore.  

 

     He only continued for his hyungs.  His hyungs who had always been so kind to him, even when he made things difficult.  His hyungs who helped him through the survival show, even when they should’ve been focusing on themselves more than him.  His hyungs who deserved the entire world and not a useless burden like him.  

 

      He knew the group was better of without him, but he couldn’t bear to leave them behind.  He loved them all too much to just leave, even though, at the same time, he wanted to leave everything.  He knew they cared too, but he couldn’t tell them how he was feeling, even when he knew they’d listen. 

 

      So, he kept playing quiet mouse.  He refused the bait and avoided all the traps.  He stayed quiet in his own loud way, a way that wouldn’t be questioned.  He never gave anything away to anyone.  

 

     And everyone was so caught up in their own happiness at getting to debut that they stayed ignorant to the signs.  They didn’t notice how he seemed to get thinner and thinner by the day.  They didn’t notice how he looked nearly ready to pass out at all times.  They didn’t notice his tears late at night.  They didn’t notice anything but, in the end, was it really their fault?  

 

    Jeongin was very good at the game he was playing, and the rest of them didn’t even realize they’d been dragged into playing too.  

 

    Jeongin had mastered the game.  He knew the rules like the back of his hand and he never even bothered to stop and think before he started playing.  He knew everything he needed to.  At least, he thought he did.  

 

     What he didn’t know about was the cat who was always alerted of his presence.  The sharp claws and teeth, ready to spring into action once it was the right moment.  The cat who watched silently, ready to pounce once it knew he wasn’t looking.  The cat who was playing with him, hurting him more.  

 

     And, he was so focused on avoiding all the traps and resisting the bait that he couldn’t see the cat right behind him, waiting to pounce. 

 

     Becuase, while he would have a chance to live if he was caught the the trap, the cat would have no mercy.  The cat wouldn’t hesitate to kill him the moment he was in its grasp.  And even though he’d heard about the cat taking victims, hundreds of them, mice just like him, he didn’t think it would come after him.  

 

     He didn’t know that the cat was always looking for pray.  It was always hungry and ready to eat.  That it would take whoever it could get, and that included him.  

 

     He didn’t realize that it was already there, waiting for him and that it was just waiting to pounce on him.  It just wasn’t the right moment yet.  

 

     But it would be.  Very, very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest, I'm not fully satisfied with how this chapter turned out, but it was time to put it up like I promised. It will probably undergo some changes later on but nothing to the plot of the story should change. I'll let you know when I edit it so if you want to go back and read it you can.
> 
> Also, if you haven't seen it yet, this story is going to be taking a look at normal children's games and putting a dark twist on them. Not every chapter will be like this to keep things from being repetitive, but most will be. The later chapters will not focus on this and some will focus on the other member's thoughts, feelings, and perspective.
> 
> A few other things, I've had a few people unsure about some of the symbolism in this story which is understandable. I don't really specify anything, but at the end of each chapter I will explain any important symbolism in the notes. 
> 
> The Cat: The cat represents depression or suicide, waiting to pounce at your weakest moment. It's always hunting for it's next pray, no matter how much it eats
> 
> The Games: The games being corrupted in Jeongin's mind represents how easily and often children are bing corrupted in today's society. There are children who start cursing at the age of five and are introduce to things that are too mature for them far too early. Jeongin is still only seventeen. He is far too young to have to deal with thoughts a feelings like these. Really no one should have to deal with anything like this, but for someone so young to think death would be better than living is just awful. Suicide is the second leading cause of death in people ages 15 to 24, just behind accidents. Suicide is definitely preventable, but enough isn't being done to stop it and it doesn't help that children are being introduced to a world far to harsh for them at much too early ages.
> 
> That's all the important symbolism so far but just so you know, I might leave some things out in the future for you to figure out for yourself or interpret in your own way. 
> 
> The next update will be on July 1, 2018
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! See you in the next chapter!


	3. Three-Legged Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin remembers having three-legged races when he was in school. He can't help but think that now he's constantly in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It isn't technically July 1st where I live at but I can't sleep and it's close enough. Also, I know that a Three-legged race isn't strictly a children's game (really, any of these games could be perverted or misshapen by teens and young adults in some way) but I only remember having races like these as a kid. Because of that, my mind likes to perceive it as a children's game and some other chapters might be like this. So, anyway, one with the chapter! I hope you like it!

     Jeongin couldn’t focus.  He knew that he should.  Chan was talking to him and by the tone of his voice it was probably important, but, he still didn’t focus.  He couldn’t. 

 

     Not with voices in his head screaming at him about how much of a failure he was.  

 

      He’d messed up the dance for what seemed like the millionth time in a row.  He just couldn’t get the footwork right.  He was already clumsy and it didn’t help that he was exhausted and the footwork wasn’t exactly easy.  

 

     “Jeongin!  Are you listening!” Chan said, waving a hand in front of his face. 

 

       He was forced from his thoughts and was surprised to see that Chan was standing right in front of him.  Everyone’s eyes were on him now and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.  “N-no hyung,” he stuttered.  “I-I’m sorry, I-I spaced o-out.”

 

     Chan sighed, sounding stressed.  “It’s fine.  Just don’t let it happen again.  I don’t want to have to stay late for another night.  Before we run through together I want to see you do it on your own.  Everyone else take a break.”

 

      Jeongin’s cheeks went from a slight pink to bright red.  He hated being called out in front of the other members.  Especially since he knew he could’ve done better if he’d just worked harder.  He’d have to find away to spend more time at the studio without alerting the other members.  

 

     It was the only way he’d ever get good enough to be somewhat close to their level.  

 

     He made his way over to his position and waited for the music to start.  He could feel his hands starting to get sweaty and he wiped them on his sweatpants.  Every inch of him ached and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get the foot work right.  Not with how exhausted he was. 

 

      But he had to.  

 

      He had to get it right.  He’d already made things hard enough for his hyungs and they were all so tired.  Even with the schedules being eased up a bit they all looked ready to pass out at any momen.  He didn’t want to make them stay longer just because he wasn’t able to get the moves right.  He couldn’t do that to them.  

 

     So, when the music started up, he did his best to suppress the voices in his head and focus on the moves.  It wasn’t easy but he managed to focus enough to get through the first part.  He relied on muscle memory to get help him through the rest and hoped it would be enough.   

 

     He only got halfway through before the music was stopped.  

 

      “You’re rushing the transtion,” Chan said when he stopped to look up at him.  “Here, watch me do it.”    Chan demonstrated the move perfectly.  “Do you see where you’re messing up?”

 

      “Yes hyung.  I’ll get it right this time,” Jeongin said, using a smile to cover up his guilt and shame.  It was hard to make it look genuine, but was worth it when he saw the elder give him a tired smile back.  

 

     He got back into position and the music started once more.  When it started getting close to where he normally messed up, he could feel himself start to panic.  He didn’t want to be scolded for messing up again, not in front of his hyungs.  

 

     He only barely managed to get it right.  He still stumbled slightly after but managed to catch himself quickly and Chan seemed to be pleased.  That’s all he could’ve asked for.  He just wanted to make things easier for his hyungs.  He wanted to make them look good.  To help them shine.  He didn’t need the spotlight put on him.  He never minded falling behind as long as his hyungs were doing well.  

 

     If that meant he had to work harder so that he didn’t bring them down, then that’s what he’d do.  

 

      “Alright!” Chan said, getting everyone’s attention.  “Lets finish up this last song and then we can head home!”

 

     Everyone gave tired cheers at that and got back into place as quickly as possible.  It was already late and they had schedules the next day.  Even though they weren’t as tiring as their debut schedules, they were by no means easy.  Just that day they’d already had five hours of dance practice and another four of vocal lessons.  

 

     Despite his own exhaustion, Jeongin forced himself through the next two songs and, thankfully, managed to do semi-well on both.  When everyone else was starting to pack up, he turned to Chan.  

 

     “Is it okay if I stay for a while longer?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head shyly.  “I didn’t do too great tonight and I want to make sure I’ve got it down before I go to bed.”

 

     Chan gave him a tired smile, looking proud.  “Of course you can.  Just don’t stay out to late alright?  I expect you to be home before midnight.”

 

     “I will.  Thank you hyung,” he said, giving the elder a small bow of his head.  He knew he didn’t need to be so formal.  The rest of the group had told him that several times but it didn’t stop him. The only time he wasn't like that with them is when they were on camera but he always went back to being polite after. His hyungs were so much better than him.  They deserved so much more than him but he couldn’t give him that.  So, he gave them respect.  He showed them how thankful he was to them for dealing with a burden like him.  

 

      Chan just smiled and ruffled his hair.  He never suspected anything and Jeongin planned to keep it that way.  “Good.  I’m glad to see you’re working so hard. Just don’t overexert yourself and if you aren’t home by 12:01 then I will march down here myself and drag you back,” Chan joked.  

 

      Jeongin gave him a tired smile and a laugh.  “I’ll make sure to be back on time then,” he said.  He widened his smile but it felt so fake that it hurt.  He wanted nothing more than to break down and cry but he kept the smile up until all the other members had left the room.  

 

      It was only then that he let his smile fall.

 

      He didn’t waste any time in turning on the music and rushing back to his position.  He had to get the choreography perfected before he had to leave.  It was 9:30 and it took twenty minutes to walk back to the dorm.  If he sprinted he could make it in ten.  Ideally, he would get a driver to take him home but nobody worked that late unless it had been scheduled ahead of time.

 

     He decided he would leave fifteen minutes before twelve.  He knew he could run all the way back, he’d done it before after all, but he couldn’t take the risk.  If Chan really was going to stay up and wait for him to get back, then he had to make sure he got back on time.  

 

     He felt guilty for making his hyung stay up late for him so he needed to make sure the dance was perfect.  If not, he’d troubled him for no reason.  

 

       He only made it halfway through before he stumbled, falling to his knees and groaning in pain.  His limbs were aching in protest with each movement and it didn’t hurt that he’d already head bruises from practicing the night before.  He ignored the feeling and restarted the song.  

 

      He stumbled once again, and on the same part.  The same part that Chan had shown him not long before and he still couldn’t get it right.  Even when his hyung went out of their way to help him, he never improved.

 

      Thirty minutes of failure passed and he was no closer to getting the choreography down than he’d been when he started.  

 

      Every time he got to the footwork, he stumbled and had to restart.  He cursed his clumsiness each time he failed and no matter how many times he went over it slowly, he failed it when he tried to speed it back up.  He was always tripping over his own feet.  

 

      The other members liked to joke about his clumsiness.  The sometimes said he had two left feet.  He’d always wanted to disagree, but never did.  He always wanted to tell them that he had three feet instead of two left ones, but then he would loss the race.  

 

     The three-legged race.  He remembers having to pick partners with other people and playing the game at school events and festivals.  It wasn’t his favorite game but it was entertaining nonetheless.

 

     He always thought it was funny.  There was always that one person he got stuck with someone who was much taller than them.  He liked watching the two people try and work with each other.  It normally ended with both falling to the ground and losing the race.  

 

     But then again, there was always those people who just seemed perfect for each other.  The exact same height and seemed to have decent communication skills.  They were always the winners of the race.

 

      Jeongin felt like the latter.  He had the perfect partner.  The perfect person to push him harder than any of his group members, even when he stumbled.  The person who gave him to most motivation, even if it hurt.  

 

     The person telling him that he wasn’t good enough and that he had to work harder.  The person who told him he would be kicked out if he didn’t give more than his all.  The person who knew him better than anyone and yet, they’d never really met.  

 

      They were just there with each other, victims of circumstance.  People who’d both been unfortunate enough to end up without partners.  Jeongin was in a nine person group after all.  It was no surprise that when they had to pair up, one could get left out.  So he’d allowed the person to be his partner, to guide him and coach him.  

 

     To tell him to run the song again even though he’d done it over a hundred times.  To tell him how awful he was when he messed up.  To remind him that he wasn’t good enough for the group and would need to work harder if he ever wanted to be anywhere even close to his members’ levels.  

 

      It didn’t take him long to figure out that the person wasn’t all that kind but they worked well together.  They were ahead of everyone else, even though their two legs were tied together.  Even though he was exhausted and stumbling every couple of steps.  And while the rest of the group was left behind, laughing as they tripped over their own feet and just having fun with the race, he was far ahead with his partner at his side.  He wasn’t happy, wishing that the person would be easier on him, but he was winning and he could see the finish line.  It was far in the distance, but he could see it and his members seemed to become farther and farther away.  So far away that he could barely hear their voices anymore.  

 

     Just the voice of his trusty partner in the three-legged race.

 

      Even as he lay on the hardwood floor of the dance studio, breathing ragged and sweating heavily his partner was there.  He was screaming at him to get up.  Telling him that he’d already wasted the first half hour of his practice.  That he didn’t have enough time to rest.  He had to get the choreography down before he left or it would’ve been for nothing.  

 

       His head was starting to hurt from all the noise so, he stood up.  His partner quieted but he knew that he was still there.  

 

      He started up the song again and went to his place.  For what felt like the millionth time that night, he stumbled.  It was going to be a very long night.  

 

* * *

 

 

    At 11:44, Jeongin stopped his practice.  He could already hear his partner yelling in his ear about not working hard enough but he forced himself to tune it out.  He had to get home by midnight.  He would get in trouble otherwise and he really didn’t want to disappoint his hyung.  

 

      He grabbed chugged a bottle of water, hoping that it would stave of his hunger.  He still had less than two more days to go before he’d allow himself to eat.  It was difficult and he could feel his body starting to protest all of the intense exercise he was putting it through but he ignored it.

 

     He grabbed his bag and slipped a mask over his face.  Deep down he wished he had a driver to take him back but he reasoned that he could use the extra workout.  He hadn’t been able to go the the gym that day an he’d just make up for it by running back.  

 

     So, he was out of the building by 11:48 and started his sprint back to the dorm.

 

      He could feel his already exhausted body shutting down as he ran.  Every inch of him told him to stop and eat something and rest.  He stomach was growling angrily and he felt like he would die if he went any longer without food.  He ignored the feeling and ran fast.  

 

      He ran down the mostly empty streets, hoping he would make it to the dorm on time.  Thankfully the roads weren’t too busy and he could get across most of them without needing to stop.  He cut through and alley, a shortcut he’d found not long after he started staying late and ran on some of the less crowded streets.  He made sure to be wary of the few people there since most of them didn’t look all that kind.  He ran another block before turning and going down another alley.  The route wasn’t his safest option but it was the fastest.  

 

     He ran another block before he saw the dorm and slowed down to catch his breath.  It was 11:57 by the time he made it back to the dorm and unsurprisingly, only one light was left on.  Without wasting anymore time, he walked inside, locking the door behind him.  

 

     When he walked into the kitchen, Chan was there waiting for him, hair wet and towel thrown over his shoulders.  It was obvious that he’d only just gotten out of the shower.  It wasn’t surprising since he normally let the rest of the members go first.  

 

      “How did your practice go?” Chan asked, seeming tired.  

 

       “It was okay,” Jeongin lied.  It’d been awful.  He hadn’t had time to perfect the choreography.  He had most of it down but it wasn’t even close to as good as his hyungs.  “I’m still stumbling a bit but I’ll practice more tomorrow.”

 

     Chan frowned and Jeongin could feel himself start to panic.  He'd disappointed his hyung once again.  

 

      “Alright,” Chan said but there was something in his voice that didn’t sound right.  “Just don’t work yourself too hard.  Now, go shower.  I can smell you from over here,” the elder joked.  Jeongin gave him a weak laugh and a tired smile.  

 

      “Okay hyung,” he said.  

 

      As he turned to leave Chan spoke up.  “Don’t take too long.  You have school tomorrow and then schedules after.”

 

       “I won’t hyung.  Good night,” he said before making his way up to the bathroom after grabbing some pajamas to start his nightly routine.  

 

     Once he saw the light outside the bathroom turn off, he grabbed his small blade from under the sink.  He needed something to make him forget about his partner, dragging him along, closer to the finish line now.  The pain was a good way to tune out his voice.

 

      He made a few quick cuts.  That was all it took for him to quiet but they never stopped moving.  He felt like he couldn’t go on any longer but he didn’t have a choice.  His partner kept moving and since their legs were tied together, he was dragged along with him.

 

      After cleaning off the blood and hiding his blade back under the sink, he stepped into the shower.  The water was, unsurprisingly, cold.  Everyone else had already used it up but he didn’t care.  He would’ve turned it cold anyway.  

 

      He made sure to get out quickly.  He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious if they were still awake.  Not that a long shower was anything to be concerned about but it was already very late and he has school the next day.  They always told him to go to bed early on school days and if they knew he was still awake then they’d surely force him to go to bed.  

 

     So, he climbed out of the shower and dried off.  The cuts hand’t stopped bleeding so he grabbed the first aid kit and bandaged them.  It stung a bit but he was used to it by then.  It was just part of his routine now.  

 

     After having done that, he swallowed down two sleeping pills.  He needed to get to bed quickly or else he’d be too tired for school the next day. He hoped that he’d be able to fall asleep quickly but he doubted it.  

 

      Even with the sleeping pills it always took at least a half an hour for him to fall asleep.  He just hoped he’d get enough sleep to get him through the day.

 

* * *

 

 

      As usual, Jeongin woke up first, this time due to a nightmare.  One that seemed so innocent but was so terrifying that he’d woken up on the floor in a cold sweat, pulse rushing and unable to sit still.  He’d had nightmares before.  Plenty of times but they’d never affected him so badly.  He tried to push it from his memory but every time he tried, it just replayed in his mind once more.    

 

     He’d fallen behind in the race.  He hadn’t been working hard enough and his partner had been unable to pick up the slack.  He’d seen his hyungs, who were having a great time.  They were laughing as they tried to adapt to sharing a leg with another person, but all he was able to do was panic.  His partner screamed into his ear.  He screamed that he wasn’t trying hard enough and that they were going to lose.  It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to pass him.  The finish line suddenly seemed so far away.  His partner was yelling at him but all he could do was watch as they passed him, even as they stumbled over their own feet, laughing as they did.  At the rate they were going, it would be a very long time before they reached the finish line but that didn’t matter.  He had to catch back up.  He had to reach the finish line.  His legs felt weak and suddenly he wasn’t able to walk anymore.  He ground disappeared beneath his feet and he was falling down, down, down into an abyss.  The voice of his partner got louder and louder until he was sure his ear drums would burst and it hurt.  He trashed and turned, hoping to find something to grip onto but all he caught was air.  He waited for the impact with the ground but it never came.  He just kept falling and it seemed as though he would never stop.  

 

      The moment he realized that he wasn’t going to stop was the moment he hit the hard wood floor of his shared bedroom.  He couldn’t stop the groan of pain that escaped his lips as he instinctively went to grab for his side.  He’d landed on his hip, which was surely going to be sore fore the rest of that day and most likely the next one. 

 

      He lay on the floor for a few more minutes, trying to get himself together.  His heart was beating so fast he was afraid it might burst.  He was shaking and his palms felt sweaty as he tried to find the edge of his bed to pull himself up.  When he finally managed to get to his feet, his legs were so shaky that they almost gave out on him.  He waited a moment to catch his breath before he let go of the bed and stumbled out of the bedroom.  

 

     For once he was thankful that Hyunjin was so hard to wake up.  If it’d been anyone else then they’d surely have woken up the moment he hit the floor.  If they knew he was having nightmares he would be under close watch for a while and he couldn’t have that.  If that happened there would be no way for him to get in any extra practice and if that happened his he’d fall behind in the race and he just couldn’t have that.

 

       He walked into the kitchen, feeling along the wall to get there since he feared he’d wake someone up if he turned on the lights.  Once he was there he guzzled down a glass of water, then another, and a third after that.  His stomach growled, obviously unhappy with the lack of food but he ignored it.  His partner was encouraging him to work harder and he needed to lose more weight.  Another day without food wouldn’t kill him.  

 

     After he’d finished a fifth cup, he stopped and leaned against the counter.  He stole a quick glance at the clock on the stove, barely being able to stifle a groan with the numbers ‘3:23’ blinked back at him.  He didn’t need to be awake until around 6:00 to get ready (5:25 if he wanted to be up before everyone else) so he had another two and a half hours to kill.  

 

      He knew there was no way he’d be going back to sleep anytime soon.  His mind was already racing and his partner was screaming at him.  He also knew he couldn’t just sit and pass the time on his phone like he normally did.  He was exhausted but it felt like there was electricity running through him. 

 

      With his partner’s voice screaming in his head, he decided on what he wanted to do.  

 

      He knew sneaking out was risky, especially if someone woke up, but he just couldn’t stay at the dorm.  He needed to do something to prove to himself and his partner that he was working.  That he wasn’t slacking and falling behind.  

 

     So, he slipped on a sweatshirt over the pajama shirt he was wearing and put on a pair of sweatpants and his tennis shoes.  He made sure to be quiet as he opened the door, stopping and listening every time it so much as squeaked.  Any small sound had him stopping and waiting, expecting the lights to flicker on at any moment.  

 

      They never did.  

  

      Once he’d successfully made it out without waking anyone, he started his jog to the dance studio.  It was open at all hours for the few who choose to practice late, or rather, early like him.  He was thankful since he needed the extra practice.  

 

     The jog took him about fifteen minutes, the only thing dragging him along being his partner.  By the time he was there, he was out of breath and sweating.  His legs were still sore from his practice a few hours before and he knew bruises were probably already forming on his legs from how many times he’d fallen.  

 

      He seemed to bruise a lot easier now than he used to. 

 

       Still, his partner didn’t allow him time to catch his breath as he walked into the dance studio.  Within five minutes of arriving at the company building and walking inside, he was already playing their title song and working on the dance.  He ignored the way his legs seemed to wobble under him as he forced his body to give more than it already had.  

 

      He knew he wasn’t the best dancer in the group.  He knew he was most likely the worst and no amount of practice would fix that.  Even so, he convinced himself that if he couldn’t even get close to the rest of the group’s level then he would be less worthless.  That maybe his partner wouldn’t yell as much and maybe, he would be able to slow down in the race.  Maybe he would be able to take his time and laugh with the rest of the group, who were still so far from the finish line while he seemed to only be a few steps away.  

 

       It wasn’t much, but it was better than the encouragement of his partner and that was enough to keep him going.  

 

      Before he knew it, he’d gone through the choreography of all the songs on the album, but he didn’t stop.  It wasn’t enough.  He was still stumbling.  It was just this one part.  He just had to get the footwork right and then he would stop.  He would take a break.  He would slow down a bit.  He would let the group catch up and he would joke with them.  He just had to get this one part right.  

 

      Deep down, he knew that wasn’t enough.  He knew his partner would never allow that.  It would never be enough for him.  No matter how many times he perfected the choreography and how much better he got it wouldn’t be enough.  No amount of practice would be enough for him.  

 

      So, at around 4:30, when he’d finally got the footwork down, he didn’t stop.  He went over it again and again, drilling it into his mind.  He went over all the songs again, then a second time.  It still wasn’t enough, but he didn’t have time.  It was already 5:30 and Chan would be up soon.  He had to be back before then or else he would trip up.  He couldn’t slow down anymore.  He couldn’t afford to.  

 

     So, he left the building and sprinted back to the dorm once more.  It was 5:43 when he got back and he knew he didn’t have much time.  He slipped inside, glad to see that the lights were still out and tiptoed up to the bathroom.  Just as he closed the bathroom door, he heard Chan’s alarm going off from down the hall.  

 

     He’d made it.  Perhaps he stumbled a bit but he and his partner caught themselves before he fell to the ground.  

 

      He knew he’d have to be more careful in the future if he wanted to avoid tripping.  It wouldn’t be that hard.  He’d just have to watch where he stepped a bit more.  He’d have to slow down a bit, and his partner wouldn’t be happy, but it had to be done.  It was the only way to win the race.

 

      He stepped into the shower and started washing the sweat from his body.  He looked at the purple blooming on his legs and cringed.  It was worse then he’d thought.  They definitely wouldn’t be going away any time soon.  He’d have to wear pants more often.  

 

      He finished showering as quickly as possible.  It was unusual for him to shower in the morning, unless he was sick, and he didn’t want his hyung to worry.  He already caused enough problems for him.

 

      He internally cursed when he realized he’d forgotten to grab clean clothes before getting in the shower.  There hadn’t been enough time and he hadn’t even thought about it.  The laundry room wasn’t far but it would still be risky.

 

      He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, making sure the cuts were covered.  The few bruises that could be seen could be explained as falling down in practice.  Cuts wouldn’t be as easy to find and excuse for.  

 

     After he did that, he opened the door and peaked outside.  He could hear Chan in the kitchen, most likely making breakfast.  He knew that Chan probably wouldn’t come back down the hall if he’d already started but he still made sure to be cautious as he stepped into the hall.  

 

      Once he did, he sprinted on the tip of his toes to the laundry room.  He cringed when a floor board creaked loudly but didn’t stop.  A few seconds later he made it the laundry room and found a pair of underwear to slip on.  After that he pulled out his school uniform and put it on as quickly as possible.  It didn’t help that the buttons were difficult to button but he managed to get it on it record time.   

 

     After he had it on, he walked into the kitchen, as casually as he could manage.  His legs were starting to get sore from practice but he made sure to not let it show. 

 

      “Good morning hyung,” Jeongin said when he walked in, already working to plaster a smile on his face.  

 

      Chan jumped, apparently not having noticed him come in and turned to him.  Jeongin already felt bad.  “Don’t do that!  You scared me Jeonginnie!”  His tone sounded joking but it didn’t stop Jeongin from feeling guilty.  

 

     “S-sorry hyung,” he mumbled, unable to stop his voice from shaking.  

 

      “I’m just teasing,”  Chan said with a laugh before turning back to the stove.  “Did you sleep well?”

 

       “Yeah, I did,” Jeongin lied.  Chan didn’t need to know about the nightmares.  “Did you?”

 

     “I did but I’m still tired,” Chan replied.  “I’m surprised you aren’t.  We went to bed around the same time and you woke up before me.  There’s still time for you to sleep if you want.”

 

      “I’m not tired,” he lied again.  

 

     “Are you sure?” Chan asked.  “You’ve got another hour or so.”

 

     “I’m sure hyung, would you like help with breakfast?” Jeongin asked, desperately wanting to change the subject.  

 

      “No, I’ve got it.  Just go rest for a bit.  I know you said you’re not tired but you’ve got school today and schedules tonight,” Chan said, gesturing to the living room with the ladle he was using.  

 

      “Alright hyung,” Jeongin said, trying to sound normal.  He didn’t want to rest.  If he didn’t have something to focus on then the only thing he’d be able to hear would be his partner shouting at him. 

 

      Still, he went to the living room and lay down on the couch.  He could already hear the voice of his partner growing louder and it made his head hurt.  He dug his nails into his thighs.  He didn’t have his razor but he hoped his nails would suffice to quiet the voice down for a moment.  

 

      He stared at nothing in particular, hoping that he would be able to space out.  Maybe if he could the voice would quiet down some more.  

 

      It never happened.  

 

      He dug his nails harder into his thighs, trying to distract himself.  The fabric of his pants was starting to wrinkle and he was fairly sure he messed on the bandages covering his thighs but he didn’t care.  He just needed something to distract himself.  

 

       He sat there for an hour.  An hour of waiting and hoping the voice would quiet down.  An hour of wanting nothing more than to cry and scream or do anything to drown it out.  An hour of trying to hold back to tears that burned his eyes.  

 

      He could feel them threatening to slip down his cheeks.  He wanted to let them.  He was going to.  Finally let them fall.  Let them-

 

      “Morning I.N.nie!” came a voice from the door to the living room.  Jeongin snapped his head to look at who it was.  Woojin stood in the doorway looking at him.  “Is everything alright?”

 

      Jeongin made sure to keep his gaze low as he answered.  He knew his eyes were red.  “Morning hyung and everything’s fine.  Why do you ask?”

 

      “You just seemed . . . upset.  Are you sure you’re alright?” Woojin asked.  

 

      Jeongin could picture the concerned look on his face.   So, he put on the most genuine smile he could muster, hoping his eyes were too scrunched up for his hyung to see how red they were.  “I’m fine.  Just a bit tired.”

 

      “You shouldn’t have stayed so late last night,” Woojin chided teasingly.  

 

      Jeongin just gave a quiet chuckle, hoping it seemed real.  He could feel the tears threatening to fall.  He had to make an excuse to get out of the room before they did.   

 

      “I won’t next time,” he lied, knowing he would stay all night if he could.  “I should probably go wake Hyunjin up or else we’ll be late.”

 

     He started towards the doorway to the living room, trying to avert his eyes.  As he walked out, he felt Woojin’s hand on his shoulder.  “Hey, you know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you, right?”

 

      Jeongin’s fake smile faltered for just a moment but he quickly forced it back to it’s original state.  “Of course hyung, but nothing’s bothering me.  I’m just a bit tired.  I’ll go to sleep earlier tonight.”

 

      With that, Jeongin continued down the hallway towards his shared room, knowing but not being able to care that he’d just lied to his hyung.  He found it hard to care about a lot of things, especially himself.  The only thing he could really bring himself to care about was the race.  

 

     He felt like, while he was the one ahead of everyone else, that he was the one losing.  Maybe the phrase ‘slow and steady wins the race’ was true after all.  Though, his partner didn’t seem to care as he was dragged closer and closer to the finish line.  They was so far ahead that he could barely see his hyungs anymore.  They were just spots in the distance and the finish line was so close to him now.  Just a little more to go and they’ll have reached it.  Just a little more and then they’ll have won.  

 

     Just a little more . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll start with the symbolism to kick things off
> 
> The Partner: I think this is the most obvious symbolism in this story so far. The partner in the three-legged race represents insecurity. The want to make everything perceived as flaws into something perfect. I struggle a lot with my own insecurities and I think most other people can relate to this in some way or another. If you haven't dealt with insecurities at least once in your life, then . . . well I don't know, all I can say is that you will at some point. 
> 
> The Finish Line: I don't quite know what I really meant for the finish line to represent. It just felt right being in the story as I wrote it. Now that I think about it, it can probably be perceived in a few different ways. I personally think my sub-conscious was telling me it represents death but I'd like to hear what you think anyway so please tell me in the comments.
> 
> The members/distance: This is some of the easier to understand symbolism in this story. The distance between Jeongin and the members represents how he pushes them away. The fact that he can't hear their voices anymore represents that he's unable to focus on what they're telling him and more on what his mind is. 
> 
> That's all the symbolism so far and remember to tell me what you think about the finish line! 
> 
> The next update will be on August 1st, 2018! (Chapter title: Peek-A-Boo)
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter but I'd like to what you thought of it! Thank you for reading!


	4. Peek-A-Boo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin has played, and plays a lot of games and there's one he doesn't quite understand, and it's Peek-A-Boo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked super hard on this chapter! It's a bit shorter than some of the others but I didn't think it would flow right if I tried to continue it. I hope you like it!

      While Jeongin enjoyed many games, there was one he never quite understood the concept of.  Peek-A-Boo.  There was never a winner, or a loser.  It really couldn’t even be considered a game.  

 

     It was just someone hiding behind their hands for a few moments, still clearly in view, before popping out once more.  How it seemed to delight infants was beyond him.  He didn’t see how something so simple could be so entertaining.  

 

      He’d be the first to admit that, even if it seemed odd to him, he’d done it all the time with his younger brother when he was young.  Whenever the infant got fussy, he’d just walk up with his hands in front of his face.  Then, after a few moments, he’d pull his hands away and shout ‘Peek-A-Boo!’  His brother would always scream in delight and laughter, mouth open in a wide innocent smile.  

 

     When he was older, out of sheer curiosity and boredom, he’d looked up why children acted like that.  He discovered that when a baby couldn’t see someone’s face, it thought that they were really gone.  That they’d disappeared into thin air.  Their young mind’s were too underdeveloped to understand that concept that someone could exist without being in sight.  

 

      Knowing that, he sometimes wondered if there was someone still playing Peek-A-Boo with him, even if he was in his teens, growing closer and closer to his adult years.  

 

     There were somedays when he would be okay.  He would feel fairly normal, and his smile wouldn’t feel as forced.  Talking and joking would come more naturally and he actually felt decent.  He would go through the day feeling like he was walking on clouds, the warm sun hitting his skin.  

 

      Those days felt amazing when they came around.  

 

     He felt like he didn’t need to work so hard and that he’d finally reached his goal.  He would feel motivated and when he went to school, it wasn’t hard to pay attention.  

 

     It seemed like the bad wouldn’t come back.  That the thoughts were going to leave him alone and he could finally be happy.  Almost like the thoughts had never existed in the first place.  

 

      But then, it would all come back.  The person moved their hands away and shouted ‘Peek-A-Boo!’ so loudly he was sure he was deaf after.  Instead of reacting with a shriek of laughter or a smile, he reacted with tears and panic.  

 

      It would jump back at him so suddenly.  Sometimes when he was just laying in bed at night, other times at dance practice, and other times at the dinner table, surrounded by his hyungs.  He would have to use all of his will power to keep it hidden until he was alone.  Until no one was around to see him break down.  

 

     Then he would sob.  He would cry so hard that his chest would hurt and he was shaking.  The sobbing normally lead to hyperventilating and, if he was lucky, he would pass out.  Not for long.  Just for a few minutes and then he would wake up, feeling awful, but at least the panic was gone.

 

      It didn’t take him long to realize that Peek-A-Boo was his least favorite game.  Still, just like a helpless child, he was forced to keep playing.  Over and over again.  The person, hiding behind their hands, waiting for just the right moment to jump out at him and he, just like a child, could only watch in amazement as they jumped out of, what seemed to be nowhere.  

 

      On Saturday morning, when he woke up feeling unusually light and happy, he didn’t even realize there was someone standing right in front of him.  All he could think about was the overwhelming joy that enveloped him when he woke up not hearing the voice of his partner, or needing to worry about staying quiet.  It was like everything was suddenly okay, and it would never be bad again.  He didn’t realize how naive he was until later that day.  

 

     For they first time in a long time, they had a break.  No one had to go to school since it was the weekend and their managers decided to bless them with the day off.  Everyone seemed to be more than happy to take advantage of it.  

 

    Everyone slept in late, even Jeongin, though he was still the first out of bed.  Chan ended up ordering delivery for brunch since it was around 10:00 when everyone got of bed.  When it got there, they all just lazed around watching a movie as they ate.  Even Jeongin.  

 

      He didn’t even think about how much weight he would put on because of it.  He’d already made it six days without food and he thought that maybe he’d finally satisfied his need to get better.  So, he happily at, feeling giddy as he watched whatever show they’d put on.  

 

     Though, in the end, all it took was one comment for him to go spiraling back down.  

 

     He’d reached for a second helping of chicken when Hyunjin jokingly said,”Yah, Jeongin-ah, aren’t you on a diet?”

 

     **“Peek-A-Boo”**

 

     There they were.  The person playing Peek-A-Boo with him.  Jumping out at the slightest indication that he wasn’t prepared.  That he actually believed that everything was suddenly okay.  

 

       Jeongin immediately pulled his hand back, setting his plate down on the table.  Even if Hyunjin had been joking, that didn’t matter to him.  He’d eaten so much.  He needed to get ride of it.  

 

     Minho lightly slapped Hyunjin’s arm.  “Give the kid a break.  He’s been doing so well.  You eat as much as you want I.N.nie!”

 

    Even after Minho said that, Jeongin didn’t get anymore.  He wasn’t hungry.  All he could feel was the weight of the food in his stomach.  He felt like throwing up.  He could feel the bile rising in his thraot, trying to force it’s way out but he swallowed it back down.  He couldn’t leave so suddenly.  Especially after Hyunjin said that.  Everyone would get suspicious if he did.

 

     He waited a few minutes before standing up and starting towards the bathroom.  He’d tried to sneak out without being noticed but it was impossible.  

 

     “Where are you going?” Hyunjin asked.  

 

     “I don’t feel very well.  I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” Jeongin said with a shy smile.  “You guys keep watching without me.  I’ve seen this movie before anyway.” 

 

       “Are you alright?” Seungmin asked.  “You aren’t getting sick are you?”

 

      “No.  I’m just a bit tired,” Jeongin replied before slipping from the room.  He didn’t want to be questioned anymore.  

 

     He rushed to the bathroom as quietly as possible.  He shut and locked the door behind him before kneeling over the toilet and throwing up.  He hadn’t even had to force it.  Just the thought of gaining weight was enough for it all to come out on its own.  

 

     A few minutes later, he had nothing left in his stomach.  He thought it would make him feel better but it didn’t.  He still felt awful, ugly, disgusting.  When the person had moved out from behind their hands, he suddenly remembered all that was wrong with him.  He wondered how stupid he could’ve been to believe that everything was okay.  

 

     Without another thought, he grabbed his razor from under the sink and yanked down his sweatpants.  He carved more ugly lines into his thighs, watching as they bled.  He hacked away.  It hurt so much but he needed it.  He had to quiet the voices in his head.  He’d lost count of how many new cuts he’d made when the voices finally went silent.  

 

      He didn’t normally cut during the daytime.  It was far too risky but at that moment he just couldn’t bring himself to care.  

 

      The clean up was a little messier than usual.  He’d been so enticed with destroying his skin that he hadn’t noticed how deep he’d gone.  There was more blood than usual.  It was staining the hem of his shirt and was getting on the floor and his sweatpants as well.  He knew he’d probably have to throw the clothes out.  

 

     After bandaging the cuts and cleaning up the floor, he pulled his sweatpants back on, hoping and praying that there was nobody in the hallway.  He peaked out the door, happy to find that no one was there.  He tiptoed to his room, trying to be as silent as possible.  It took him a full two minutes to make what would usually be a ten second trip to get his room.  

 

     Once he was there, he pulled off his sweatshirt, underpants, and sweatpants.  There was blood on all of them and it would definitely raise suspicion if he was seen wearing bloody clothes.  He threw on a t-shirt and some loose jeans he found lying on the floor.  Whether they were clean or dirty didn’t really matter to him at the moment.  

 

     After he got the fresh clothes on, he worried himself with what to do with the bloody ones.  He couldn’t simply throw them in the laundry room.  Even if he was the one washing the clothes, there was a chance they’d be seen if he put them there.  It was too far out in the open.  He could just throw them away but there was also a risk of someone seeing them there too.  He knew there wasn’t much chance of getting the stain out, even if he washed them right then since they were light colored clothes.  

 

       In the end, he found an empty bag in his closet and put the dirty clothes there.  After that, he shoved the bag under his bed.  There was a lot of things stored under there so nobody would question it if another one was added.  He knew he couldn’t leave them under there forever but it would give him time to figure out what to do with them.  

 

      Once that was dealt with, he knew it was time to deal with his sweaty and shaking hands.  The cuts had gotten rid of the voices and dealing with the clothes had distracted him for a short time but now that he had nothing to focus on, panic was overtaking him.  

 

     Instead of the joy children usually reacted with during peek-a-boo, he’d reacted with fear.  He hadn’t expected everything to come back to him so suddenly.  He hadn’t expected the voices to be so loud and the self-hate to be so overwhelming and consuming.  

 

      He could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage so hard he was sure it would break.  His breaths were fast and shallow and he was starting to tear up.  He needed to quell the panic before someone came to check on him but there was nothing he could do.  The panic was crashing over him like a wave and he was drowning in it.  

 

     He backed up to the wall and slid to the floor.  He yanked at his hair, hoping that it would be enough to distract him.  Tears streaked quietly down his face as he tried to suck in a breath, only for it to get caught in his throat.  He choked, coughing violently, irritating his already sore throat.  He felt like he was suffocating, each breath not making it to his lungs.  He was shaking and everything seemed to blur.

 

      He’d dealt with many panic attacks in the past, but he was never good at getting over them.  He was just forced to sit and try and breath through it or hope that he passed out.  Sadly, at the moment, he knew that the later wasn’t an option.  He had to stay awake.  If he passed out and someone walked into the room, they would know something wasn’t right. 

 

     When his vision started to go black, his panic only worsened.  He couldn’t do anything to stop it.  He clawed at his throat as if it would somehow help him.  He gasped and choked and black started consuming his vision.  

 

     He honestly didn’t care if he passed out but it was too risky.  He couldn’t let himself pass out, so, he forced his eyes to stay open.  He forced a breath down his reluctant throat and held it for a few moments.  He let it go then took another and repeated the process.  

 

      Eventually the panic attack passed.  His hands were still shaking and the anxiety was definitely still there but he was just grateful that he was able to breath.  He sat on the floor for a long time.  Just sitting there, breathing in and out slowly until he felt himself grow tired.  

 

     He got up, trying not to fall asleep.  He was exhausted but his mind was screaming at him to go practice.  He’d done bad the day before.  After school, he’d gone straight to dance practice.  He stumbled the entire way through, despite his practice the night before then.  He’d told his members that he was just tired but deep down he knew it was lack of nutrition that had caused it.  The entire school day his body was screaming for food but he refused.  

 

     He wanted to make up for his awful performance the day before but he knew that since he’d told his members he wasn’t feeling well, there was no way they’d let him go.  As he slipped into bed, he couldn’t stop himself from being surprised that they hadn’t been up to check on him.  Normally when he showed any sign of distress they were already on top of him, checking for what was wrong.  

 

      He couldn’t help but feel as though, just maybe, they’d stopped caring.  He wouldn’t blame them.  It was hard to care for someone who only brought you down.

 

     It wasn’t long before insecurity was gripping at him once again.  It wasn’t letting go.  He was stuck in it’s grasp, far to weak to fight it off anymore.

 

     He lay down in bed, the only thoughts in his mind being his own fears and insecurities.  It wasn’t long before he had convinced himself that they didn’t care.  Why would they?  Why would they care about him?  He was just a burden.  He already had Hyunjin putting in extra hours to help him dance.  Woojin was also giving up extra hours  to help him improve his awful vocals and Chan was stressed because he could barely keep up with what he needed to do and Jeongin was just taking up more and more of his time. 

 

    Even if they did care, he wasn’t worth caring about.  

 

     It wasn’t long before he’d started clawing at the sheets of his bed, trying to ground himself somehow.  He was shaking again and feared having to go through another panic attack.  He normally didn’t have more than one in a day but it seemed that the person playing peek-a-boo with him had decided to be rather playful that day, even if he wasn’t.

 

     Only seconds later he was trying to calm his breathing lest he go through another.  He didn’t want to.  The first one had been hard enough.

 

     He started to hyperventilate once again.  HIs vision started going blurry.  Everything was fuzzy.  The TV that he could hear from the downstairs suddenly sounded much more muddled that before.  Things became harder and harder to focus on and suddenly all he really knew was overwhelming exhaustion.  

 

     Less than a minute later, he passed out and fell into a blissfully nightmareless sleep.  A sleep that he hadn’t had in a very long time.  For once he was grateful for the person who forced him to play peek-a-boo  

 

* * *

 

     The next time the person played with him was only a few days later.  

 

     Really, in the morning, he’d felt worse than ever.  He’d gotten less than an hour of sleep before he was jerked from sleep by a nightmare.  He’d dragged himself out of bed and took a freezing shower after.  It wasn’t comfortable but it helped him get himself out of his head for a moment.  After that, he got dressed for school and quickly finished up the homework he’d been assigned the day before.  He always made sure to keep his grades up.  If they slipped even slightly below satisfactory then the school would call the company and the company would let the rest of the group know.  If that happened then he would disappoint his hyungs even more.  So, he made sure to keep his grades in the mid A or high B range. 

 

     When he was done, he was still feeling awful.  He had an hour and a half before anyone would be up and considered slipping out to the dance studio but decided not to risk it.  Chan sometimes woke up earlier than expected and Jeongin usually went out of he had at least two and a half hours.  That way he could be sure he would be back before the leader woke up.  

 

     Instead, he pulled up the video of the choreography on his phone.  Whenever they got new choreography they always got a video to review if they had extra time.  Jeongin found it extremely helpful whenever his mind was too active.  It at least gave him something to focus on.  

 

     He stood up and practiced the dance with small, not very precise movements.  Just enough to get it in his head so when he actually did have time he wouldn’t have to worry about memorization.  His mind was screaming at him and he knew it wasn’t enough but it was all he could do at the time.  

 

     He spent around fifty minutes going over it before deciding to stop.  He didn’t want to risk waking anyone and was starting to sweat.  He had time to shower again but really didn’t want to.  His school uniform was not the easiest thing to get on and off and his muscles ached too much to bother.  He would have time to worry about it later.  

 

     Instead, he pulled up twitter.  It was where he got the most motivation to work harder.  Even if it hurt.  

 

     He’d found a page dedicated to him.  Well, not really him, but his flaws.  The things he needed to fix.  That was where he could get the most feedback and critique.  Over seven thousand people followed the page so he had many people to tell him what he was doing wrong.  

 

     He knew that if his hyungs ever found it, they would be upset and angry so he made sure to keep it hidden.  He always looked at it while on a fake account and logged out immediately after he was done.  Any comment he might’ve written down somewhere on his phone or perhaps physically on a sticky note was either deleted on thrown away not long after to avoid detection.  

 

     He scrolled through the page, sitting in the corner of the room so that if anyone walked in they wouldn’t see the content and keeping a separate app to flip to incase of an emergency.

 

     A lot of it was stuff he’d seen before.  ‘Untalented’ ‘Ugly’ ‘Burden’ ‘Clumsy’.  Even it was small, it still fueled the fire just as well.  Simply because of the fact that there were so many people who believed it.  So he had to believe it too.  

 

     Only, there was something different.  It was some of the replies to the posts.  Especially to one particularly harsh post.

 

     “ _Jeongin is so talentless.  I’ve never seen someone who brings down a group more than him.  When they were in the survival show, Minho stayed behind to help him and ended up getting eliminated later on.  Minho is perfectly talented and never deserved that.  The only reason he did is that he spent to much time helping that burden and not enough time on himself.  And it’s not just him!  It showed that the other members all spent a ridiculous amount of time on him!  It was time he didn’t deserve!  Jeongin was scolded so many times and it makes me angry that JYP didn’t just eliminate him in the first place!  It would’ve made things so much better and honestly, I think the rest of the group would’ve been happier that way.  Sure they hugged on him but I bet they just do it to make him feel better since he’s so useless.  Not only that but he’s always calling them out for little things they don’t deserve to be called out on!  I don’t know how they can handle him!  I bet the only reason they keep him around is out of pity.  I really feel sorry for the rest of the group and this is just a bit of it.  Jeongin is so ugly and clumsy that it makes me want to throw up!_

 

_Anyone want to petition to get him kicked out of the group with me?  If so, find me on my twitter page!”_

 

Jeongin read the comment around three times.  It was true.  So so true.  He was awful, rude, untalented, and a burden to everyone.  He should’ve just been kicked out.  It would’ve been better off that way.  

 

     He was about to keep scrolling.  There was probably a lot more posts just like that.  More motivation for him.  

 

     Just as he did, he noticed how many comments were left on the post.  There was over five hundred.  He assumed that they were the people petitioning to get him kicked out, but out of curiosity, he clicked on it anyway to find out.  

 

      When he did, he was overwhelmed by what he saw.  

 

      _“What kind of world are you living in?!  Jeongin is so talented!  You’re just jealous!”_

 

     After seeing that, he kept looking.  

 

     _“I strongly disagree.  Jeongin is super talented, he just needs help embracing it!  Who cares if he isn’t the most amazing dancer in the world, he has the voice of an angel and I’m sure he works just as hard as everyone else, if not harder!”_

 

_“Jeongin is the most adorable freaking child in the world!  How dare you say all that about him!  Do you have no soul?  What if someone said that to you!”_

 

Sure there were a few people who agreed with whoever the person who made the post was but there was an overwhelming amount of support.  Suddenly, the screaming in his mind vanished and he felt an overwhelming sense of calm as he continued to look through the comments defending him. 

 

     He wondered vaguely why so many people had come to his defense.  He wasn’t talented.  He was a burden.  So why were so many people saying otherwise?

 

    But, those questions were quickly forgotten as he kept scrolling.  

 

     One comment after another praising him and his so called talent.  There was an overwhelming sense of giddiness as he read through them.  A smile that he didn’t have to force found its way to his lips.  His eyes lit up with happiness and he didn’t feel as empty as before.  

 

      He didn’t realize how long he’d been reading until he heard the sound of footsteps heading his direction.  He quickly logged out of the fake account and opened up another app.  It was a puzzle game that no one would ever question.  

 

     Chan walked into the living room and gave him a tired smile.  “Morning Jeonginnie,” he said as he made his way towards the kitchen.  

 

      Jeongin smiled, a real smile for once.  “Morning hyung!”  

 

      Chan stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow at him.  “You seem unusually awake for six in the morning.  Have you been up for long?”

 

      “No,” Jeongin lied.  “Not very long.  I just slept well.”

 

      “I’m surprised,” Chan said.  His warm smile suddenly turned into a mischievous one.  “With how late you kept us last night I’m surprised you had time to sleep at all.”  The tone of Chan’s voice was obviously joking, but still, Jeongin couldn’t help but take it literally.  

 

     **“Peek-A-Boo”**  

 

     He’d completely forgotten about it.  The vocal practice.  He’d done awfully.  His voice had cracked the entire way through.  Every time he tried to sing his part it failed miserably.  If the cracking hadn’t been enough then it was even worse that their vocal coach quickly called him out on the hoarseness of his voice.  In the end, they ended up staying for an extra hour, which put the rest of their schedule behind.  Their dance practice, which was originally  only supposed to go until 10:30, ended up getting over at 11:30, and they didn’t get home until midnight.  

 

     His smile immediately faltered, but he forced it back on.  It wasn’t genuine anymore, but it looked real enough to fool Chan.  He laughed shyly, scratching the back of his neck.  “Guess I went out the moment my head hit the pillow,” he lied once again.  He’d been up until around 3:00 a.m. trying to get through a panic attack without waking the rest of the dorm, something that had required more energy than he would’ve liked and he ended up falling asleep right after.  

 

     Chan smiled at him and walked into the kitchen.  Jeongmin missed the fond gaze, too caught up in his own faults to see it.  

 

    Once again, he’d been fooled.  They were just playing peek-a-boo.  They were never truly gone, just hiding behind their hands and waiting for the right moment.  It seemed that they’d gotten bored quickly and decided to surprise him sooner than normal.  He’d barely gotten a full hour of the light feeling before it was ripped away, and honestly, he preferred it that way.  

 

     At least he hadn’t been living in ignorance for long.  Reality was shoved back into his face quickly and he was grateful.  At least he didn’t cling to the false hope for long.  No, it was just stupid to hold on to things like that.  

 

     He was nothing that the comments said.  He wasn’t talented, handsome, cute, or any of the other many praises they’d written.  They were just defending him out of pity.  The same reason his bandmates continued to help him.  

 

     Because he was just some weak and useless kid trying to be something in a life that didn’t want him.  They were just trying to give him a taste of fame and it was bringing them down.  He didn’t deserve people like them.  He didn’t deserve anyone.  

 

      They only thing he deserved was death, and maybe that would be better for everyone, including him.  His hyungs wouldn’t have to deal with such a burden and he would be freed from a life of pain.  His parents would be ridded of a disgrace of a son and his brothers wouldn’t have to worry about being shamed because of him.  The fans would be happier if he was gone, and they wouldn’t have to look at his ugly face on the cover of every album.  

 

      The more he thought about it, the more he believed it and the the more he thought about it, the more tempting it was.  

 

     It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d thought about killing himself, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.  Every time he didn’t go through with it, he regretted it, but every time he decided that he was going to do it, he chickened out.  No matter how much the thought about it and how much he wanted to do it, he just wasn’t brave enough.  

 

      He even had it planned.  Letters were already written and every once and awhile he’d go and read over them, occasionally rewriting them.  He already had two 200mg bottles of Benadryl hidden safely in a bag at the back corner under his bed, a place far too hard to get to for anyone to look.  He knew where he would do it, in the bathroom, leaving the door unlocked so that he didn’t cause even more trouble for his hyungs.  Everything was planned out, but he just didn’t have the courage to do it and he hated it.

 

      But, every time he went to do it, he felt just a little more willing than the last.  Perhaps he would someday he’d have the courage.

 

      Until that day came, he was forced to sit and play peek-a-boo.  Just like a helpless child.  A child who couldn’t defend themselves.  A child who was being utterly broken down more and more each time the person came out from behind their hands.  

 

      **“Peek-A-Boo”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll kick things off with the symbolism:
> 
> The person playing Peek-A-Boo: Jeongin's insecurities, fears, and negative thoughts. On days when he's feeling good, it's just sitting there behind it's hands waiting to jump out. 
> 
> Jeongin being compared to a baby: A baby cannot defend itself. It cannot survive on it's own. It needs someone to take care of it. So, Jeongin cannot stop the negative thoughts on his own, he needs help.
> 
>  
> 
> That's all for now. If you see something else, please tell me in the comments. I like to see how different people see certain things! 
> 
> A few things, starting in September, this story will updating more than once a month. There will always be an update on the first day of the month, but the other ones will just be . . . whenever. If I feel like updating, I'll update, or if not, I won't. There will always be at least two per month and I'll see how it goes. This is just to try and if it doesn't work I'll go back to my old updating schedule. 
> 
> Also, I have a few other things I'm working on. The first is an angsty Wing AU series somewhat inspired by a fan fiction called 'Black Feathers' by oAlexiaso (Not 100% sure if that's right, I couldn't find it). It didn't really influence the series in a big way, but it did inspire me to write it and a few elements from that are there. It's going to be a series of separate stories, each focusing on a different kpop group, specifically, the maknae because deep down I'm a soft stan who loves it when the older members dote on their maknae. It's adorable. Don't judge me. As of now there are eleven stories planned. This series won't start till either late this year, or early next year if I'm on schedule. Why am I telling you now? Because I'm super excited for it. 
> 
> Another thing I'm working on is a SF9 story, Chanhee centered. It isn't an AU, they are all idols, and It's something I'm really excited about. I'm not giving many details because it's not going to start for awhile, but I'll give more details and hints as I get closer to publishing it. 
> 
> That's all I've got for this chapter. I truly hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next update: September 1st


	5. I Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all saw that something wasn't quite right, but they just couldn't figure out what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a really long time to write this chapter, but I really like the way it turned out. I hope you do too!

     “Do you think Jeongin’s been acting a bit odd lately?” Chan asked Changbin as he walked into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

 

     “Not really.  Why?” Changbin asked, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet.  

 

     “I just think there’s something off about how he’s been acting.  You know, always going to the studio to work and the new diet and all that,” Chan said, handing the younger the pitcher of coffee he’d made.  

 

     “I mean, he seems like he’s working a lot harder if that’s what you’re asking but, can you blame him?” Changbin asked.  “We just debuted a few months ago and now we’re preparing for our first comeback.  After how much JYP bashed him in the survival show, I’m not really surprised.  I’m sure he just wants to get better and to prove to others and himself that he’s doing well.”

 

     “But he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone.  Everyone knows he works hard,” Chan defended.  Jeongin had always been one of or the hardest worker in the group.  He was also the one to pick them up when they felt too tired to keep going.  

 

      “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the need to.  Think about it, if you were him, wouldn’t you want to get better?” Changbin asked, taking a long sip from the coffee he’d just poured himself.  

 

      Chan thought for a moment.  “I guess,” he said, still sounding skeptical.  “But what if he works too hard and gets himself sick, or what if he hurts himself.”

 

      Changbin sighed.  “As much as I hate to admit it, he’s not a child.  I mean, he’s not and adult either, but he’s seventeen.  He’s old enough to know his limits and I know he’s smart enough to stop when it’s too much.  Trust me, I love to baby him just as much as you do, but we have to give him some credit, he works hard, but he’s old enough to take care of himself.”  Chan nodded, but didn’t look fully satisfied with the answer.  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep and eye on him.  If I think he’s starting to work too hard then I’ll tell you, alright?”

 

     Chan smiled with a relieved sigh.  “Thanks Binnie.”

 

     “No problem.  I want to keep him safe just as much as you do,” Changbin said.  “Now is breakfast ready or do I just have to sit here and starve?”

 

     “It’ll be ready when It’s ready, you impatient brat!” Chan scolded jokingly, punching his shoulder lightly.  “Now go make sure everyone’s up.”

 

     “Why?” Changbin asked, rubbing his shoulder, even though it didn’t hurt.  “It’s Saturday.  The kids don’t have school.”

 

     “I know but we have an early schedule,” Chan explained, turning back to the stove.  

 

     “I thought we had the morning off.”  Changbin groaned.  He’d been hoping to relax for the morning.  

 

     “I did to but they just added it in this morning.  Apparently some of the trainees need the practice room tonight so they moved our practice to 9:30.  We will get done a little early tonight though so that’s a plus,” Chan explained.  “We have about an hour until we need to leave but you know how long it takes some of them to get up so will you please go get them?”

 

    “Yeah I will, just let me finish my coffee first.”  Changbin took a long drink of the bitter liquid, downing the rest in only a few seconds.  It’s something he’d had to learn to do with their crazy schedules.  “I’ll be back in a min - Oh, hey Jeongin.”

 

     Chan turned around to see Jeongin in they doorway.  His hair was sticking to his forehead and his sweatshirt was drenched in sweat.  His eyes looked a bit puffy and dark circles stood out prominently on his pale skin.  He was staring at them with wide eyes, and he was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.  The only movement they could see was his shaking hands, even though the sweatshirt he wore covered them completely.  

 

     It was odd because the same sweatshirt had fit perfectly when he’d bought it.  Maybe it was a different one. 

 

     “Is everything okay?” Chan asked, his parental instincts kicking into full drive for the youngest.  “You aren’t getting sick are you?”

 

     Jeongin stared at him for a moment, looking caught off guard.  It was a good ten seconds before he managed to choke out and answer.  “Y-Yeah, I-I’m fine.”

 

     “You don’t look fine,” Changbin said immediately, giving him a worried look.   

 

      “I . . . I-It was j-just a bad dream is all.  I’ll be fine after I shower,” Jeongin said, already trying to rush by.  

 

     Changbin walked up and grabbed to stop him from leaving and Chan had left to stove where he was cooking to come closer to the both of them.  “Are you sure?  Maybe you should talk about it.  It usually helps.”

 

     “I’m sure,” Jeongin answered.  His voice had gone from something along the lines of scared and shaken to defensive and neither of the two liked it, even if it broke their heart to see him look so frightened.  “I don’t even really remember it anyway.  I just need a shower.”

 

     He gently pulled out of Changbin’s grasp and speed walked to the bathroom.  They both heard the door lock before the shower turned on.

 

     Changbin turned back to Chan, face serious but eyes concerned.  Jeongin hardly ever got defensive, unless they were joking.  It just wasn’t like him.  He was usually happy, and smily, and energetic, but the Jeongin that they’d just seen was the exact opposite.  

 

    “You still think he isn’t acting odd?” Chan asked.  

 

     Changbin sighed.  “Maybe you’re right, but we can’t know for sure.  We all have bad dreams sometimes, but I’ll make sure to keep a closer eye on him from now on.”

 

     “Thanks,” Chan said, looking more straight faced than usual before giving the younger a small smile.  “Now seriously, go wake everyone up.  I really don’t want to be lectured about being late.  It’s way too early for that.”

 

     They both laughed, further drowning out the sound of quiet cries from the bathroom that no one seemed to hear.

 

* * *

 

 

     Seungmin scanned the room.  They were getting ready to do a photoshoot and he’d just gotten done with his individual shoot.  They’d been going up by age so he knew that Jeongin would be done.  He was already bored with nothing to do and he knew there was a good chance he could convince the younger to do something with him.

 

     He finally spotted him sitting in the corner of the room.  He was staring down at his phone, legs curled in as close to him as possible.  It make him look smaller than he usually did, especially since the clothes the stylists had put him in were just a bit small.  

 

     “I.N.nie!” he called, rushing over.  Jeongin jerked his head up to look at him before glancing back at his phone, clicking on something, then looking back up.  

 

     “Hey hyung,” he said, bright smile spreading across his face.  

 

     Seungmin smiled back.  He loved Jeongin’s smile.  He always seemed so happy.  “Come hang out with me!  I’m bored,” he said in an exaggerated whining tone.  

 

      “But I’m tired,” Jeongin groaned back, his tone equally as exaggerated.  

 

     “I don’t care!  It’s so boring here and there’s nothing to do until we have group shots and that’ll take forever so come on!” He grabbed Jeongin’s hand, trying to force him up, which didn’t take much work since the younger didn’t seem to want to protest much.

 

     He pulled Jeongin too a more open part of the room before turning back to him.  He reached down to pinch his sides, something he did often just to annoy him.  Though, the youngest had been subjected to it enough to predict it and he dodged.  

 

     “Stop it hyung!” he scolded playfully, something he did often, especially when they were on camera.  

 

    Still, Seungmin kept going, goofing off with the younger and chasing him around the relatively small space.  Seungmin knew that it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, especially with all the random things lying around but he was having too much fun to care.  

 

     It was only a matter of time before things went wrong.  

 

     Seungmin tripped, falling forward and taking Jeongin down with him and landing on top of him.  The fell to the floor, Seungmin laughing, and Jeongin wincing.  It only took a second for Seungmin to notice it, even though the younger was trying to hide it.  

 

     “What’s wrong?  Are you hurt?”  Concern and guilt were prominent in his voice.  He sat up, getting off of him.  Jeongin was gripping his upper thigh with his right hand, cringing in pain.  “Ah, I’m sorry, I hurt you didn’t I?  Let’s go to the bathroom so I can take a look at it or I can get Cha-“

 

    “No,” Jeongin interrupted.  “I’m okay.  I’m just a bit sore from practice the other day and running around just aggravated it a bit.  I’ll just need to make sure I stretch it out more.”

 

     “Are you sure?” Seungmin asked, sounding skeptical.  “Maybe we should look at it anyway.”

 

     “I’m sure.  Just a bit sore.”  Jeongin smiled brightly at him. 

 

      “I still think we sh-“  Seungmin was cut off once again by the door to the dressing room opening and Jisung and Felix loudly introducing their entrance.  

 

     He was only distracted for a few seconds but that had apparently been enough time for Jeongin to stand up and start to slip out of the room.  He could hear a quiet mumble of something about getting a phone call, but he was easily able to see the limp as he walked out.  

 

     But, as Felix and Jisung pulled him into some either random shenanigan, he forgot about it.  They all got sore from practice every once and awhile so it shouldn’t have been so worrying.  

 

     Though, had he went with his original instinct to check, he would’ve seen the seven or so cuts that had been reopened by the fall, and the other countless scars that remained closed and tattooed on his skin forever.  

 

* * *

 

     Hyunjin walked into the practice room.  He knew it was late but there was just this one move he couldn’t get down.  It wasn’t particularly difficult, there was just a lot going on and it was hard to get right when moving so fast.  Thankfully, it was Friday so he wouldn’t have to worry about being up early the next day.  At least, as long as they didn’t have any last minute schedules.  

 

     As he walked to the practice room, he set and alarm for 11:30 so he could make sure he would be back before midnight.  Chan would kill him otherwise, even if the leader was notorious for staying out until the early hours of the morning.  

 

     As he neared the practice room, he could hear the sound of their title track playing.  He thought it was odd.  As far as he knew, the practice room was supposed to be empty and the rest of the members were busy.  Or at least most of them were.  The only person who had been free that day was Jeongin, but he’d gone to the studio right after school, and if he was still there that would mean he’d been there for almost six hours, far longer than any of them should be working.  

 

     He opened the door to the practice room and stepped inside.  Sure enough, Jeongin was there, drenched in sweat and panting as he ran through ‘My Pace’ for what must’ve been the thousandth time.  

 

      “Jeongin-ah, what are you doing here?” he asked as he walked in.  The youngest didn’t seem to notice but Hyunjin noticed the way his legs shook beneath him and decided it was time for him to stop.  He walked over to the speaker and flipped off the song.  Jeongin stopped, not even turning to see who’d turned the music off but rather, bending over and resting his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.  “Jeongin-ah,” he said, his voice gentle but stern.  “Have you been here since school got over?”

 

      Jeongin didn’t say anything but by the way he looked at the clock pretty much confirmed Hyunjin’s suspicion.  

 

     “Innie, you can’t work for so long.  You’re going to drop if you do,” Hyunjin scolded gently.  “At least tell me you’ve eaten something.”

 

     Jeongin took a moment to respond as he gasped for air.  “Y-yeah.  I a-ate something about t-three hours ago.  D-didn’t realize how l-long I’ve been here.”

 

      Hyunjin sighed.  It seemed that Jeongin was always losing track of time when it came to practicing.  He grabbed what he assumed was Jeongin’s water bottle, it was the only one in the room, and took it to him.  As he walked over, he noticed the Jeongin was not in practice clothes.  

 

     He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and sweatpants.  Definitely not a good choice for six hours of practice. 

 

      He gave the water bottle to him, unsurprised when he downed half the bottle in one go.  

 

     “You should head back to the dorm.  You’ve done enough for today,” Hyunjin said.  

 

      Jeongin stood up straight suddenly, taking Hyunjin off guard.  “I’m fine.  I just need to get the dance down and then I’ll go back.”

 

      “Jeonginnie, you’re drenched in sweat, you aren’t wearing proper clothes, and you probably need to get something to eat and drink.  Go back to the dorm and get some rest.  Six hours is way to long to spend practicing,” Hyunjin says, more sternly than before.  He knows he doesn’t really show the hyung side of him much since he is somewhere close to the middle, but he feels it’s necessary for the situation.

 

      “I swear I’m fi-“ Jeongin tried but Hyunjin cut him off.  

 

      “I don’t care.  You don’t look fine and you need to go back to the dorm.  If you keep this up you’re going to make yourself sick.”  Hyunjin’s voice was serious.  He thought he was starting to sound like Chan but he was sure that he needed to.  

 

     Jeongin paused for a moment.  He seemed taken aback but it was hard to tell because he’d moved his gaze to the floor.  “Fine,” he spat out suddenly before turning on his heal, grabbing his back, and leaving, shutting the door behind him harder than necessary.  

 

       Hyunjin stared at the door, confused.  Jeongin never acted like that.  He did tease them and fake anger all the time for fun, but he never sounded like that.  He never sounded so angry or upset.  

 

     He was half tempted to go after him and make sure everything was alright but he decided against it.  He probably needed some alone time.  It was understandable with their hectic comeback schedule to want some time to be alone.  

 

     So, instead, he turned on the speakers and started his own practice, the music drowning out the fast-paced breathing, choked sobs, and quiet mumbles of ‘sorry’.

 

* * *

 

       Felix walked into the dorm with sore feet, sweaty clothes, and tired eyes.  He’d just come back from an extra dance practice with Minho and Hyunjin, who had surprisingly still had energy and decided to stay back an work more.  He on the other hand, was exhausted.  He had been doing school all day, online since he was still learning korean, and it had taken up more energy than it should have even though he’d just sat a computer all morning.  

 

     The only thing on his mind was a shower and his bed.  

 

     He showered quickly, even though the hot water had felt so good on his sore muscles.  He was too tired to want to stand up too long and he was sure he would fall asleep soon if he didn’t get out.  After getting ready for bed, he headed to his shared room.  

 

      The lights were off in the room and he didn’t bother turning them on.  He was just about to slip into his own bed when he noticed that Jeongin was already asleep.  It wasn’t abnormal for him to go to bed early since he woke up early but it was still earlier than normal.  It was only 8:30 after all.

 

     He only hesitated for a moment before walking over to his bed and slipping under the covers next to him.  The bed wasn’t really made for two people but they had all quickly become good at making it work.  With how cuddly they all were they’d had to.  

 

      “Hyung?” Jeongin mumbled.  He sounded tired, but too awake to have been asleep.  Perhaps he’d just gotten into bed.  

 

     “Yes Innie?” Felix asked, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close against him.  Jeongin was facing away from him so he couldn’t see his face but something didn’t feel right.  “Is something wrong.”

 

     “No, nothing’s wrong,” Jeongin replied immediately.  “Just wanted to see who was there.”

 

     That made sense.  He’d just gotten into his bed without announcing himself in any sort of way.  If it were him then he would want to know but something still felt off.  He just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  

 

        Neither of them said anything after that.  About thirty minutes passed and he was pretty sure that Jeongin was asleep, but the feeling of wrong had settled uncomfortably in his stomach and seemed content to stay there so he was left lying awake.  He tried to pinpoint what was so wrong. 

 

     When he couldn’t figure it out, he tried to focus his mind on something else.  Something other than the wrong in his stomach.  

 

    It was only then that he realized he’d started to brush his fingers against Jeongin’s overly prominent ribs, even through the sweatshirt.  

 

     Suddenly, the feeling of wrong intensified.  He wanted to ask about.  To force Jeongin awake and tell him why he could feel his bones.  Why he was so thin.  

 

     But, the more he tried to think about it, about how he would bring it up, the more he talked himself out of it.  The more he told himself that Jeongin had just lost weight because of the upcoming comeback and the stress and lack of time to eat had caused it.  He told himself that Jeongin was eating, even though he hadn’t seen him eat anything in the past week other than maybe an apple and a few small bites of a some of the meals he had no choice but to join.  He said that a hundred times, but he never believed it.  

 

     Still, he didn’t ask and slipped into an uneasy sleep, not waking up until early the next morning when Jeongin was already awake and getting ready.  

 

    He convinced himself that the night before had been a dream, a nightmare, caused by stress and lack of proper sleep.  And he didn’t say anything, even when Jeongin made an excuse to skip out on breakfast once more because he didn't want to believe it was true.  

 

* * *

 

      They were all at dance practice.  It was another late night and they’d already been at the studio for almost four hours.  They were all exhausted, even Hyunjin, who was one of their best dancers and undoubtedly had the most endurance when it came to dance.  He was panting as he gulped down half of his third water bottle.  Seungmin and Jisung were off in the corner, half asleep on each other while they had a five minute break.  Chan already was asleep, getting as much as he could since, more than likely, he would stay even later than the rest of them to do more work.  Woojin was sitting on the floor, taking long sips from his water bottle and Minho was standing not far in front of him, staring at Jeongin who was in the middle of the room, still going over moves.  

 

      Minho watched with a hard gaze.  Jeongin was drenched with sweat.  He was wearing sweatpants, which seemed to be his new normal for practice, and a long-sleeved shirt.  He could hear him breathing even from ten feet away.  

 

     It just didn’t seem right.  

 

      Jeongin used to jump on the chance for a break.  Any chance he got to get in extra sleep he’d take, but it seemed that he stopped caring about that.  

 

     It wasn’t only that, but  every time he made a misstep, he would stop and there would be a look in his eyes.  He couldn’t exactly figure out what, but he knew it was there.  He’d seen it at vocal practice too.  Jeongin’s voice had cracked and he stopped an there was just something in his eyes that wasn’t right.  

 

     “You noticed it too,” someone whispered next to him, making him jump.  He looked to see Woojin standing next to him.  “Sorry.”

 

     “It’s fine,” Minho whispered back, looking back towards Jeongin, who looked nearly ready to cry as he stumbled again.  He grabbed Minho’s arm and pulled him towards the corner of the room so they wouldn’t be heard.  “So I’m not the only one who sees it?”

 

     “No,” Woojin said with a grim chuckle.  “Chan’s been worried about him too.  I think Changbin is too.  They’ve both been keeping a close eye on him.”

 

     “He just seems off,” Minho said, glancing back.  Jeongin was still practicing just as hard as before, if not harder.  

 

     “Yeah.  I don’t think he’s been sleeping well either,” Woojin added.  I heard him get up in the middle of the night about two weeks ago.  He didn’t come back for awhile.  I’m not sure how many times he’s been up since then but I heard him come back in at around one in the morning a few days ago.”

 

     “Do you think that could be why he’s acting odd?  Not getting enough sleep?” Minho asked, secretly hoping that that was all it was.  Just lack of sleep.  That was something they could deal with. 

 

     “It could be but I’m not sure.  Seungmin didn’t act like this when he couldn’t sleep a few weeks ago though.  He acted completely different.  Jeongin’s been acting the same for the most part I think.” Woojin answered.  “But everyone reacts differently so I wouldn’t rule it out completely.”

 

      Minho sighed.  “It just doesn’t feel like that’s it.  Have you noticed anything else off about him?  Maybe something that might give us a hint as to what’s wrong.”

 

     “Not really.  I mean there might be more that we aren’t seeing but there’s no way to know unless we ask him.”  Woojin rubbed his temples.  He could feel a migraine coming.  “Do you think we should?”

 

     “I don’t know.”  Minho’s voice was quiet and unsure.  It was abnormal for him.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  Sometimes people just close themselves off more when you ask them.”

 

     Woojin nodded in agreement.  “So then what should we do?”

 

      “I’m honestly not sure.”

 

     They both looked back towards the middle of the practice room.  Jeongin was still practicing, but his head was down towards the floor.  

 

    Perhaps it was so no one would see the few stray tears that slipped down his cheeks as he stumbled once more.  

 

* * *

 

      Jisung was very open about his affection for the rest of the members, specifically, Jeongin.  

 

     He wasn’t afraid to go and wrap his arms around one of them or give them a quick peck on the cheek.  He loved to annoy them with his love, and he didn’t mind when he got a joking slap on the shoulder or an annoyed shout.  He knew they loved him just as much. 

 

     He was wondering around the dorm.  It was right after school and the older members had gone out for the day since they had a break.  Felix was still finishing up with online school and Seungmin and Hyunjin had both gone out with friends.  He didn’t know where Jeongin had disappeared to so he was left at the dorm alone. 

 

     He honestly liked it.  He normally didn’t get any alone time with their schedules and school so it was nice to have the whole dorm to himself.  He didn’t have to fight for a spot on the couch or for the remote so he got to pick what he wanted to watch, and there was no one around to tell him he had to stick to his diet so he could pig out all he wanted.  

 

     He quickly flipped to some random horror movie before going to the fridge and heating some leftovers from the night before.  He plopped down on the couch, propping his legs up on the coffee table and digging in.  

 

     He watched in blissful silence for about an hour before someone arrived home.  He paused the movie, the screen having been focused on a girl who’s guts had been spilled across the floor and glanced towards the hallway that connected to the front door.  He could hear shuffling by the door, whoever had just gotten back was probably taking off their shoes, before footsteps started heading towards him and Jeongin came into view.  

 

     “I.N.nie!” He shouted, setting down his food and running over to him.  He went to wrap his arms around him but he ducked out of the way.  

 

    It wasn’t unusual.  He was like that with all of them.  So, he tried again before Jeongin was able to escape.  He wrapped his arms around his waist and was just about to press a kiss to his cheek when he was shoved away.  Hard.  

 

     That was unusual.  

 

    “Hey, what was that for?” he asked, pouting.  

 

     “N-Not right now hyung.  I’m not in the mood,” is all Jeongin said.  Jisung could clearly hear the shaky and scratchiness of his voice.  Something wasn’t right, but, before he could ask, Jeongin had retreated to the bathroom.  

 

    The door slammed shut and the lock clicked quietly after.  

 

    The entire interaction had been short, no more than maybe forty-five seconds, but it had Jisung on edge.  He wanted to go make sure that he was alright but then he remember Jeongin’s words.  

 

     He wasn’t in the mood for compnay.  He’d made that clear.  And maybe, just maybe, Jisung was a little more hurt by Jeongin’s actions than he wanted to admit and maybe it was selfish, but he thought that Jeongin could use a little alone time to think about how rude he’d been.  

 

    Though, if he’d decided to go check on him, the sight would’ve been far more disturbing than the one on the TV screen. 

 

* * *

  

   They all saw that something wasn’t right.  They knew it.  It was right in front of their eyes but they just couldn’t figure out.  

 

      So, late at night some of them would stay up, pondering what could be wrong, or others would zone out in the middle of practice as the searched their mind for something that would give them an answer as to what was going on.  Some of them tried to deny it had happened it at all, and others simply forgot.  They all had slightly different reactions, but there was one thing they all had in common.  

 

     No one told anyone else about it.  

 

     None of them mentioned anything to anyone else, thinking that they could just figure out what it was on their own, or maybe they just felt like they were overreacting.  None of them even bothered to ask if anyone else had seen something, or noticed something that wasn’t quite right, so they just went on assuming that they were they only ones who’d actually seen something amiss.  

 

    And they each knew vaguely what they were looking for, like in a game if ‘I Spy’.  

 

      They knew the color of what they were looking for, but nothing else.  They had no choice to keep guessing and guessing until they got it right.  They were searching for something dark gray, but the only problem was that they seemed to be in a black and white room.  Everything swirling with shade of light gray, dark gray, white, and black, so it was hard to know if they were even close to the right thing.  

 

     Didn’t they know that when playing ‘I Spy’ that the best strategy was to hear everyone throw out suggestions until everything except for one thing was ruled out?

 

     Because, if they listened to each other, and put out their own thoughts, maybe they would be able to narrow it down, but none of them seemed to know how to play.  

 

    Jeongin did.  

 

     He knew as long as no one spoke up about anything they would never find it.  He just had to make the object inconspicuous enough to not stand out.  He had to make sure he didn’t stand out and then they would never guess it.  They would have to keep guessing and guessing until they finally gave up, but, by then, it would be too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to focus on the rest of the group for this chapter. The symbolism wasn't as heavy in this one. I figured it would be a good time to take a break from that. I think this is a bit easier to understand than some of he earlier symbolism, but I'll explain it anyway. 
> 
> I Spy - They're searching for the reason Jeongin is acting odd. They know the color, or have a general idea of what they're looking for, but they don't know the exact reason. 
> 
> That's all I think, but feel free to tell me if you see something else. 
> 
> Also, I know I said I'd be posting more than once a month from now on, but I don't think I'll be able to this month. It's been busier than I thought it'd be. With the start of school, my music lessons starting back up, and getting my driving permit, I just haven't had as much time to write as I'd thought I would. I originally planned to have half the chapter done by the time I posted this one, but I wasn't able to. I will try to get a second chapter out this month, but I make no promises. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Next Update - ??? Deadline - October 1st


	6. Tug of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin's mind kept going back and forth, each sighting tugging on the rope, hoping to win the game. He wished they would just hurry up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this month has been pretty hectic, but I have to admit, I'm super happy with how this chapter turned out. Like I don't know, but I've barely edited this and I'm just really happy with it. I think is the first chapter that I'm fully confident with posting but who knows, you guys may hate it. Either way, I hope you like it!

Jeongin stared at the pills, still neatly in their package, looking so innocent.  There were small, no bigger than his pinky nail.  Each of them were bright pink, screaming youth innocence, but he knew.  

 

     He knew that while just one or two was practically harmless, he knew taking the entire pack would confuse his body, and that taking a second would send it into overdrive until it finally gave up.  

 

     It would be so so easy to just take them.  Then he would be free, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  

 

    Fear was the only thing holding him back.  Fear of not knowing what would happen when he finally did it.  Fear of what he would going into.  Fear of what would happen to his bandmates after.  Fear of what they would say or react.  Fear of being seen as weak.  

 

     But most of all, fear of it not working.  He didn’t think he could bare that.  

 

    If it didn’t work, then he would have to wake up and try to face the reality he’d tried to escape in the first place.  He’d have to face what he’d done, and he’d have to face his bandmates.  They would force him to talk at the very least, but, the possibility of being kicked out was unavoidable in his mind.  He didn’t think he could bare that most of all.  

 

     If he lost them, then he’d just go and try again because he didn’t think he could live without them.  They were his only reason for living.  The only reason he could bare to get out of bed in the morning.  Their smiles, and their laughs were the only thing that could bring him any sort of joy, even though his life seemed to be devoid of anything remotely positive.  And, deep down, he hoped that maybe if he were gone, they would be just as heartbroken as he was to leave them.  He highly doubted it though.  They probably wouldn’t care.  They’d probably be happy, he was such a burden after all.  Why would they ever miss him?

 

    There was a game of Tug of War going on in his mind as he stared down at the pills.  One side was telling him to just give in, and the other was telling him to wait, and he wasn’t sure which side he should listen too.  Not when both were evenly matched.  Neither of them were able to pull the scarf past the line that would indicate a winner.  They just kept inching back and forth with no end in sight. 

 

      He was so tired, and he just wished one would give up already because at that point he wasn’t even sure if he cared.  Sadly, they were both just too stubborn to give in.  

 

      After awhile, probably around thirty minutes, he slipped the pills back into their box.  Neither side was winning and it was just giving him a headache to sit and wait.  What was the point anyway.  He was wasting time that he could be practicing.  Improving.  Make himself better for his hyungs.  So he walked back to the room and slipped the two boxes into a black drawstring bag filled with letters before crouching down to shove it under his bed behind a bin of winter clothes he had stored there.  

 

      Once he’d done that he slipped on a thin, somewhat tight fitting, long sleeved black shirt and some below the knee length black exercise pants.  He’d nearly passed out from how hot he’d gotten in sweatshirts and sweatpants so he’d had to find an alternative.  While this showed more of his ugly, disgusting body, it was more convenient, and he found that he could practice longer with tiring while wearing it, so he’d sucked it up. 

 

     As long as he could improve more then that was all that mattered. 

 

     He slipped on his socks then slipped out he door to his bedroom.  Everyone had fallen asleep while watching a movie in the living room so he made sure to be quiet as he walked by.  Finally, he made it to the door to the dorm.  He slipped on his tennis shoes and then walked out the door, shutting it as quietly as possible.  

 

     As he walked to the studio, he vaguely wondered if he should tell them where he was so that they wouldn’t worry if they woke up.  He decided against it eventually.  He’d brought his phone with him, if they woke up and couldn’t find him then they would text him.  Besides, he planned to be back long before they woke up.  They were all exhausted after all, there was a good chance they would sleep until the next morning, which meant he would have plenty of time to practice.  

 

     He started to walk towards the studio.  It was chilly.  He hadn’t brought a jacket with him but he didn’t care.  It just encouraged him to move faster, he ended up running there.  Burning more useless calories and fat that added to his already unsightly figure.  

 

     Making himself better at any chance he could get.  

     

     He made it to the company building in five minutes and was already practicing within ten minutes of leaving.  He was sure that the music could be heard outside the room.  He’d purposely turned it up louder than usual.  He hoped it would discourage someone from coming inside and seeing his horrid dancing.  He wondered how his hyungs could bare to watch it.  

 

     He wondered how anyone could even look when he couldn’t even bare to look at himself in the mirror.  

 

      He forced back a gag when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and went to start up the music.  It was so loud he could barely hear the sound of his feet hitting the floor, but he let himself be drowned in the music.  It was nice.  It was louder than his own thoughts, so for once, he felt like they weren’t as angry, even if they were like harsh whispers in his ears like they’d been in the beginning compared to the sound of the music.  

 

      He dance through the song once, twice, five times in the end before he moved on to the next.  Even with the blasting music the voices still found things that were wrong.  He still listened to them, even if they seemed quiet because, in the end, it was like they ruled over him.  They were his god, and he was their faithful follower, doing whatever they said. 

 

      “ **Fast for a week** ,” they said.  He did it.  “ **Labor in the day and throughout the night**.” they said.  He did it.  “ **Offer a blood sacrifice**.” He did it.  “ **Serve only me**.”  He did it.  He did it all with childlike faith.  Trusting the voice.  Listening to them.  Doing what they said because he believed that they knew what was best for him.  Believing that they were leading him to paradise, that all his hard work would be rewarded in the end and he could be happy, not understanding that he was really listening to the devil.  

 

    Because, while the faith of children may seem the strongest, it’s only because they are simply naive.  

 

     Children don’t know about the world.  They don’t know what they’re getting themselves into when the claim that they believe this, or they believe that.  They simply go along with it because  it seems like a good choice at the time.  And perhaps, one day, the devil whispers into their ear, quiet and innocent, like the shy kid at school, and tells them to do something, that doesn’t seem so bad at the time.  **“Stay behind, practice just a little longer.  You know you can do better, and I can help you.”**   He comes in with sweet lies and beautiful sins and eventually, they don’t even realize that they’re talking to the devil anymore.  They just do what he says because he isn’t so bad.  **“Don’t eat today, you need to lose a little weight.”**   He just wants to help.  They don’t even realize when it escalates to something more.  That they’re falling further and further into sin.  That it’s slowly killing them.  **“Just one small cut.  It’ll make the pain go away.”**   And it gets worse and worse until they simply do whatever he says, no hesitation, and no remorse.  

 

     And in the end, they still have that childlike faith, they just believe in something else entirely.  Something that they don’t understand at all.  

 

* * *

 

 

      Changbin watched Jeongin with an intense gaze.  He knew that it was probably considered rude to stare but he didn’t care at that point.  He’d been watching, only blinking when his eyes started to burn, for the past twenty minutes, and Jeongin didn’t seem to notice.  He was too busy scribbling away in a notebook that Changbin didn’t think he’d seen before.  It looked new, but it seemed that he’d already managed to fill pages upon pages, at least from his perspective.  

 

      Every few minutes, he would turn the page and start writing again, never once looking up, too enthralled in whatever he was inking out onto the pages.  He was tempted to walk over and try and read it over his shoulder, but he decided against it.  Jeongin’s chicken scratch handwriting was hard enough to read up close, let alone far away, so he contented himself with watching, and wondering.  

 

     Ever since his conversation with Chan, he’d been keeping a closer eye on the maknae.   A much closer eye.  He was surprised that Jeongin hadn’t noticed, or if he had he didn’t bring it up.  

 

     It had only been a few weeks since that conversation, but now that he was watching out for the odd behavior, it almost seemed overly prominent and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed before.  How none of them seemed to notice.  

 

     He tried to think back in the few weeks he’d been watching him, if Jeongin had used the notebook before.  He hadn’t.  At least, not in front of any of them.  He wondered what was inside.  

 

     Jeongin seemed to be attached to it.  Ever since he’d seen it for the first time about a week and half before, Jeongin always seemed to be carrying it around.  At practice, to school, in meetings, he’d even seen him take it into the bathroom.  He desperately wished he could look inside.  He had a feeling it would answer all the questions he had about Jeongin’s behavior.  

 

     If he could only get one look.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Jeongin didn’t know when he’d started relying so heavily on the little black notebook.  He didn’t even know what possessed him to buy it.  It was just sitting on the shelf of a store while he was looking for school supplies.  It was small, not much larger than his hand, and it had a thick black hard cover and a large spine that dug into his wrist when he wrote at times.  He’d just seen it, and slipped it into his basket without really thinking, not realizing that it would become his newest addiction.  

 

      He found it hard to stop writing at times.  When the voices were too loud and he couldn’t practice or it was too risky to try and hurt himself, he went to the notebook.  Maybe it was because the way the spine hurt his wrist or they sound of the blue ink pen on the rough, thick paper, but he’d found it nearly impossible to put it down after he first picked it up.  

 

     He scribbled word after word inside and he didn’t stop until his hand was too tired to write anymore.  At that point, he’d already filled pages upon pages.  He dreaded the day it was filled because he found he could barely go a few hours without it.  Like the time he wasn’t able to go to the studio, even though his mind was screaming at him to go.  Or the other time when all he wanted was to swallow every pill hidden under his bed and go to sleep but wasn’t able to.  Because a winner of his game of tug of war hadn’t been decided yet, they were still going at it, even if both sides were weary and broken.  

 

     Sometimes, as he wrote, he felt as if he was commentating the game.  As if it was some sports event that hundreds were watching, even if he was the only one anticipating the end of the game and whoever they winner may be.  Only, the game was just getting drawn out, with each side refusing to give up.  It was starting to get tiring to watch and really, he didn’t want to anymore.  He just wished one would win.  He didn’t care which side it was.  Whether it lead to more suffering, or it lead to his own death.  

 

     As long as one won, he didn’t care.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Changbin looked at the notebook sitting on the table.  It looked so innocent, contrary to what he believed was held inside.  

 

      He was surprised that Jeongin actually left it alone.  He’d barely put it down at all since he’d first gotten it, and now it was just left out for anyone to read.  Anyone could look inside, he could look inside, but he was torn.  

 

     He was a firm believer that everyone deserved privacy.  Especially when it came to his group mates.  They rarely had any due to schedules, interviews, variety shows, and the fact that they all lived in the same dorm.  The scarce amount of privacy any of them got, they cherished.  

 

      But at the same time, he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t look.  Jeongin’s behavior had been worrying to say the least.  Late nights at the studio, waking up far earlier than he needed to.  Seemingly getting up in the middle of the night if he was correct.  He was fairly sure he’d heard someone lurking about the dorm far past when everyone else was asleep and he was fairly sure his assumption was correct.  Especially since pretty much all of them could sleep for days if they weren’t woken up by someone else, except for Jeongin and maybe Seungmin.  

 

      He was debating back and forth in his mind.  Two sides, fighting.  Just like in tug of war.  

 

     He wanted to, but he knew it was wrong at the same time.  He hated butting into other people’s private life, and with the way Jeongin guarded the little notebook, it was obviously private.  Even though the maknae never specified that it was, or that he didn’t want someone to look inside, it was implied. 

 

      Ten minutes of going back and forth, the two sides fighting for superiority.  It was harder than it should’ve been.  He could’ve easily just reached for the book and he could’ve just as easily ignored it and walked away.  Maybe that’s why it was so hard.  Both options were just too easy.  

 

      Just as he thought he’d finally come to a decision, starting to reach out to grab it, he was interrupted.  

 

     “Hyung, have you seen my notebook?”

 

      Changbin jerked his head up.  Jeongin was standing in the doorway.  He looked exhausted and when had he gotten so thin?  That sweatshirt hadn’t been that big before had it?  Or maybe he’d taken someone else’s.  It wasn’t uncommon for them to share clothes in their dorm.  

 

      “Hyung?” 

 

      He was pulled from his thoughts by Jeongin’s quiet, and confused voice.  He’d been staring for too long.  

 

     “Uh . . . Yeah.  It’s right here,” He answered, getting ready to reach out and hand it to him, but Jeongin was faster.  He darted forward, grabbing the notebook and holding it close to his chest.  

 

     “Th-thanks hyung,” Jeongin stuttered out before turning to leave.  

 

      “Wait Jeongin!” Changbin called.  He had to ask.  He needed to make sure he was okay.  

 

     Jeongin whipped around to look at him.  His eyes were wide with - was that fear?  Or perhaps worry?  Maybe confusion?  Changbin couldn’t tell.  Or maybe he just didn’t want to see so he blocked it out on purpose.  

 

      “Uhh, so,” he paused.  Did he really need to know?  Jeongin was probably okay.  Just tired.  They all were, but then again, Jeongin hadn’t acted like this when they’d first met had he?  And it’d been exams week for him then.  His mind kept jumping back and forth and back and forth.  Just like in Tug of War  “So, uh . . . what’re you . . . ah, never mind.  It’s not important.”  

 

     He ignored his mind, screaming at him that it was important.  That he should’ve asked, because the other half was telling him that everyone things was fine.  Jeongin was fine.  Just tired.  Just like they all were.  

 

     Just tired.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Jeongin found himself back in the bathroom for the second time in only a few days, staring down at his little pink pills.  He was desperate.  The sleeping pills weren’t working like they used to.  He found himself having to take more and more in order to sleep and he was just so tired.  He just wanted to sleep.  For a long time.  Forever even.  

 

     Even so, his mind was stilling going back and forth, back and forth.  The little ribbon tied to the rope was swishing around, still yet having passed the mark.  

 

      No matter how desperate he was for one side to just win and get the stupid game over with.

 

     He looked back at the pills, and then to his bloody forearm.  Cutting his thighs started to become to bothersome.  It took too long.  Not when he could simply pull his sleeve up and have full access to clean, soft skin.  

 

     At least it used to be.

 

     It was only the second time he’d cut his arm.  He didn’t want to risk anyone seeing, so he made sure to go high up on his arm, near his elbow.  Still risky but easier to hide.  And so much more effective.  

 

     He hadn’t cut very deep yet.  He wasn’t as familiar with it, and he didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting and artery or vein and end up bleeding out.  Or maybe he did and just didn’t want to admit it.  He wasn’t really quite sure.  

 

     It also meant that they weren’t as likely to scar, and if he ever felt the need to cut deeper, he could always return to his thighs.  He had several times, but there was just something about ruining his arms, a place that everyone could see if he wasn’t careful, that just felt so much better.  It made the voices quieter for a long time.  Maybe because he was constantly thinking about them, how to hide them.  Or perhaps it was because he could easily reach his arm up his sleeve and run his fingers over them.  

 

      Whatever it was, it was helping.  It made the voices stay quiet.  

 

      Staring at his still bloody arm, he debated his options.  He could finally just give up.  It seemed that his mind was content to continue on with it’s game of Tug of War, so maybe he could just stop watching.  Leave it alone and move on.  Or he could stay just a little longer and see how it played out.  One side would have to give in eventually.  They couldn’t go on forever, it would have to be over eventually right?  

 

      He continued staring before eventually deciding that he would go with the latter option.  So he bandaged up his wounds, cleaned up the blood, hide his little blade, and grabbed the little black notebook he’d started taking everywhere and left the bathroom.  

 

     After all, the game was so interesting after all, how could he bare to stop watching.  

 

* * *

 

 

      Changbin waited for another chance.  He waited for Jeongin to slip up, and leave his notebook alone again, but it never happened.  He was all too protective of it after the first time.  He pretty much always had it pressed to his chest save for when he was practicing, but then again, Jeongin seemed to forget about everything and everyone around him when he was practicing.  Still, when he was, he always had the little notebook hidden away somewhere.  

 

     It was clear that Jeongin didn’t plan on letting anyone read it anytime soon.  

 

     Still, Changbin tried his best to look for other things. 

 

     He watched Jeongin while practicing more often.  He always had this look in his eye.  It was odd.  It wasn’t exhaustion, but at the same time it was.  It was mixed with something else that he couldn’t pick out.  He watched out for him while at the dorm.  Before the notebook had come around, he’d barely talked to any of them, which was odd.  When they’d first met, Jeongin had always been so talkative and eager to be involved in any sort of conversation.  And now with the notebook, he barely even looked at them.  He watched his smile.  It always seemed tired, and just fake.  In a way, it never even reached his eyes or even his lips really.  They didn’t turn up like they used to.  The sides always drooped down naturally.  It was ironic really.  Didn’t they always say that Jeongin constantly smiled?

 

     Every little thing he saw gave him more and more reasons to ask or to intervene, but he never did.  

 

      Maybe he thought it was just a phase, or a horrible result of comeback schedules.  Maybe he was trying to convince himself that he was just over thinking things.  Perhaps, he just didn’t want to accept the truth.  Or maybe, he was too afraid to accept it was true.  

 

     That seemed most likely.  

 

      He knew just how much confirming all of his suspicions would affect the group. He feared that change.  They were happy.  Everything was going fairly well.  They were going to have their first comeback in only a few days.  The fans were excited.  They were happy and he feared if he found out the truth then that happiness would fade.  Not just fade, but disappear like a magician.  

 

     He didn’t want to lose that happiness.  He feared losing it and so that’s why he didn’t ask, but he would never admit that to himself.  

 

     Because the events that followed took away any sort of happiness in their lives faster than any magician could.  

 

* * *

 

 

     He was panicking. 

 

     It was the night before the comeback, and he couldn’t do it.  

 

      He was a **Failure.**

**A Burden.**

 

**A Worthless piece of Crap.**

 

 **You can’t do anything right.**  

 

     **You can’t sing.**

 

**You can’t dance.**

 

**You just bringing everyone down.**

 

**You can’t do it.  You can’t do it.  You can’t do it,** _I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it I can’t do it I can’t do it I can’t Ican’tIcan’tIcan’tIcantIcantIcantIcantIcantIcant._

 

He slashed so deep into his wrist that he was sure he cut a vein or cut something important.  It was bleeding a lot.  He found that he didn’t really care.  What was there to care about after all.  

 

     **Your worthless.**

 

The voices weren’t quieting like they usually did.  They were quieter, but still there.  Still whispering in his ear.  He wanted them to stop.

 

     _It won’t stop._

 

He wanted to give up.  He wanted to go and snatch his little pink pills and swallow them all down.  

 

     **Do it.**

 

He wanted to, but a winner hadn’t been decided.  He had to keep watching.  He had to.  He would’ve just been a waste of time if he didn’t watch until the end.  Until someone finally won.  

 

     _They won’t care._

 

He tried to push the thoughts and voices from his mind and focus on the game.  Tugging back and forth and back and forth.  He wanted to see who won.  

 

     **You’re right.  They won’t care.  Actually, they’ll be _happy_.**

 

The voices were persistent.  They were getting louder again.  Why wouldn’t they just stop like thy normally did.  

 

    **They’d probably celebrate.**

 

_Shut up._

 

He made another cut on his arm.  Why weren’t they just getting quiet so he could keep watching.  He didn’t want to listen to them.  But, then again, they were his god.  Didn’t he have to?

 

     **That’s right.  Listen to me.  I’ll _help_ you.**

 

He made another cut.  A blood offering.  In hopes that it was satisfy whatever the false god he’d created in his head was saying.  It didn’t.  

 

     **You’re going to need to do more than that.  Why don’t you just give up, come _home_.**

 

He ignored it, making another cut, and focusing back on the game.  Tugging.  Tugging.  Tugging.

 

      **Why won’t you just listen to me.  I want to _help._**

 

Another cut. Back to the game.  Tugging.  Tugging.  Tugging.  

 

    **Let me _help_ you.**

Deeper.  Back.  Tugging.  The winner was close.  He could feel it.  

 

    **You know I can.**

 

_Please stop._

Two.  Tugging.  Tugging.  The ribbon was nearing the edge.  

 

     There would be a winner soon.  He would finally know how the game ended.  Finally.  Just a little more.  Tugging.  Tugging.  

 

      The climax of the game was coming.  There would be a winner soon.  

 

* * *

 

 

      Changbin watched Jeongin carefully.  They were preparing to do their comeback stage, there was only a few minutes left before they would go on.  He could tell something was wrong, even if Jeongin refused to admit it.  

 

     Jeongin’s hands were shaking, which he’d tried to hide by shoving them into his pants pockets.  He overheard their stylists complaining about his shirt and pants being far too big and having to make a last minute outfit change.  His usual smile, no matter how fake it seemed to Changbin, was missing and he looked about ready to cry if he didn’t know any better.  

 

     His legs carried him over and he didn’t realize it until he was already placing a hand on the younger’s shoulder.  Jeongin jumped and turned towards him, pulling his shoulder away.  

 

     “Changbin hyung?  Do you need something?” Jeongin’s voice was scratchy.  Not smooth like it normally was.  

 

     “Uh, is . . . Is everything alright?  You seem a bit nervous,” Changbin asked, once again, not really thinking.  

 

     Jeongin’s lips immediately curled up into a smile.  Changbin could see right through it.  It wasn’t real, but it was there, and it was bright.  Why did he keep smiling?  

 

     “I’m fine hyung!” Jeongin chirped out.  His voice was still raspy.  It didn’t fit the bright words.  “Are you okay though?  You’ve seemed a bit off lately.”

 

     Changbin had to force himself not to act surprised.  Had he really not seemed like himself.  He thought he was acting normal, but then again, perhaps he was too distracted to notice.  He wondered if everyone else had noticed, or if Jeongin’s own desire to hide what he was feeling made him better at notice when other people were trying.  He almost asked.  He should’ve asked, but he didn’t. 

 

     Why didn’t he just ask?  It would’ve taken less than five seconds to.  Just a few words.  Just to show he was concerned, but he didn’t.  

 

      Because of fear.  Fear of losing what he had.  Fear of losing the peace that had taken so long to find after the survival show.  

 

     Fear that he was right.  

 

     He guessed that was one fear he would never learn to face.  

 

* * *

 

 

      He messed up.  

 

      It was their first comeback stage and he messed up.  

 

       It wasn’t a big mistake.  He just missed a step during some of the foot work, but it got him off beat for a bit.  He wondered how could he have messed up.  How, after he’d practiced the song hundreds, maybe even thousands of times?  Why was he still bringing everyone down when he was working so hard?  Why he was still so worthless even though he’d given everything he’d had and maybe even more?  Why couldn’t he just get something right for once?

 

     Why?  Why?  Why?

 

     He was so tired of being a burden.  A mistake.  A mess-up.  A hindrance.  He just wanted to get something right.  He had to.  His hyungs deserved that at the very least.  

 

      He had to get something right.  

 

* * *

 

 

      It was late, far past when he should’ve gone to sleep.  He could hear Chan snoring from the other side of the room, and the faint sound of Minho or Hyunjin shouting or talking in their sleep.  He couldn’t quite pick out who.  It was too muffled.  

 

     He’d tried to go to sleep, but found that it was futile within about ten minutes.  No matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t calm himself down.  He was far too restless, even if he was exhausted at the same time.  

 

      Maybe he should’ve taken it as a sign that something was wrong.  That the panic starting to bubble in his chest was more than just left over adrenaline from the comeback stage, but he didn’t.  

 

      No matter how much his mind told him to go check and make sure everything was alright, to make sure Jeongin was alright, the other side told him to just stay in bed and try to go to sleep.  The other side was afraid.  

 

      And his mind kept going back and forth like a game of Tug of War.  It was like a tournament and it’d been going on in his mind ever since his conversation with Chan. 

 

      It seemed that fear was going to be the champion.  

 

* * *

 

     

    Jeongin was back in the bathroom, staring at his little pink pills.  His arms and legs were bloodied, red dripping to the floor with quiet ‘plop’s of noise.  He didn’t hear it.  

 

     The voices in his head were too loud.  Screeching like banshees.  So loud that it was intangible.  So loud, he was sure that if the others were home, they would’ve been able to hear it too.  So loud he was sure his ears were bleeding.  Maybe they were.  He didn’t care if they were.  Just more red to add to the mess.  

 

     It’d been all to easy to get himself home alone, really, everything from the moment he’d woken up had been to easy.  

 

     Feigning sickness to stay home, pulling out his bag, setting out the letters, and grabbing his pills.  

 

     All too easy.  Like he was meant to do this.  

 

     It was almost laughable.  The world seemed to hate him just as much as he hated himself.  It wanted him gone, just as much as he wanted to be gone.  So it made things easy.  

 

     He thought back to the game.  Tug of War, raging in his head.  It was over now.  Over for hours, the winner already having finished celebrating, the loser done sulking, and the hype having died down.  It was really anticlimactic really, but he didn’t care.  He didn’t really like overly extravagant things anyway.  

 

     He pushed the game from his mind.  The winner was decided.  It was over.  His decision was made.  

 

     Instead, he looked at his notebook.  His little black notebook that had been his best friend for the past few weeks.  The only thing he could convey his true feelings to.  

 

     He’d made one last entry, filling in the last remaining page.  He’d gone through it quickly, making sure to cover almost every inch with words that he could never say aloud.  The last entry wasn’t much.  Just a few sentences.  Perhaps to console himself, to remind himself that what he was doing was right.  

 

     It helped.  

 

     And as he popped the first pill out of it’s little packet, he finally felt as though he was doing something right.  

 

    For his hyungs, he would do something _right_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to say that I don't mean to offend anyone by using religion as a metaphor in this story. I usually try to avoid using things like that because I know it's going to offend someone, but using it here just felt really natural. I usually take time to make a plan for metaphors before using them but this one just flowed and I think it fits the theme of the story well. I myself am a religious person and have grown up in a religious home so I've reread it a few times just to be sure. I didn't specify any religion in this because it's not meant to be compared to any certain one. It might be similar to one, because it's the one I know best, but it's not meant to be that specific one. If you do find something offensive, just tell me in the comments and I'll change it. 
> 
> Now that that's over, lets move right on to the symbolism and metaphors.
> 
> Tug of War: In this chapter, I use the game in two different ways. The first is to describe the Tug of War going on in Jeongin's mind. It's constant, always going, back and forth never stopping and that represents him not being able to make a decision. He's unsure which side he should choose. I don't really go into the details of each side, or specify one of the sides really, so I'll leave that up to your own imagination. Feel free to talk about it in the comments. Now for the second way. The second is seen through Changbin's eyes as he goes through multiple, smaller games of Tug of War in his mind and each one represents a decision he knows he should make versus fear. Fear can stop people from doing a lot of things that they may regret not doing. I know that it has for me and probably a lot of other people too. 
> 
> The Religion: I describe the way Jeongin follows the voices in his mind as a religion, him being the child and following blindly. I've grown up around a lot of religious people may age, who eventually fall into sin and it's all because of childlike faith. As children, we are often told what we should and shouldn't believe and in a religious home that is especially emphasized. Though, as children, we aren't often told how to believe, or how to act when we believe that certain thing and therefore we don't know what to do with that faith we've had since we were young. Therefore, because of that childlike faith, many young people end up following or doing their own thing, even if they still claim to believe another.
> 
> That's the end of the symbolism. That was actually a lot more personal than I thought it'd be. Or maybe, not really personal, but just using a lot of my observations. Well either way, I truly enjoyed writing this chapter. It just felt so natural and I'm excited to write the next one. This story is probably going to be around 10 chapters for anyone who wants to know, but I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and I'll try to get the next chapter out before the first of next month. 
> 
> Next chapter deadline: November 1, 2018


	7. Ollie Ollie Oxen Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He finally did something right. He finally won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm going to admit, wiring this chapter was super stressful but it really came together in the end and I'm honestly super happy with it. Not as happy as I was with the last chapter but happy nonetheless. I have a few things I need to say but I'll wait until the end of the chapter for that, so I hope you like the chapter!

Jeongin woke up later than usual.  He was still up before everyone else, but not by much.  Chan would be up in only a few minutes, and Seungmin not much later.  Even so, he didn’t bother getting out of bed.  

 

     It was all part of the plan. 

 

So, he lay back in bed, not even attempting to go back to sleep.  He knew it was futile, but he didn’t care.  In just a few hours, he would be able to sleep.  He would sleep for a long time.  

 

     He couldn’t wait.  

 

     He lay there for what felt like hours, and it may have been.  Either way, it was long enough for the sun to start peaking into the window of his shared room, but he still didn’t get up.  He waited and waited because that was part of the plan.  Even if all he wanted to do was grab the drawstring bag under his bed and shove every pill down his throat so he could just go to sleep.  

 

    Instead, he clutched his notebook closer.  It was hidden under the covers, held tightly against his chest.  His comfort.  His confidant.  His friend.  

 

    Eventually, Chan must’ve noticed he hadn’t got up yet and the door creaked open.  Jeongin closed his eyes and feigned sleep.  It was all he could do.  It was all part of the plan.  

 

     “Innie,” Chan called quietly.  No one else in the room needed to be up yet.  It made sense that he was still quiet.  “Innie, it’s time to get up.”

 

     Jeongin continued to feign sleep, waiting until Chan shook him lightly and called him for the third time before opening his eyes.  He closed them again not long after.  The hallway light was bright and it hurt his eyes.  He forced himself to open them again as he turned towards Chan.  

 

     Chan smiled gently at him.  “It’s time to get up sleep head.”

 

      Jeongin blinked at him once then twice.  “Hyung,” he whispered.  “I don’t feel very well.”

 

      Chan’s smile faded instantly, so fast that Jeongin almost wanted to cry.  He didn’t like seeing them look so worried.  Not for someone so useless.  He wanted to tell him to smile again, but he resisted the urge.  It would give away his whole facade.  

 

     “What’s the matter?” Chan asked gently, instinctively pressing a hand to his forehead.  “You don’t feel like you have a fever, you’re a little cold though.”

 

     “M’ head ‘nd my stomach hurts.”  He purposely slurred his words.  It wasn’t hard.  It was easy.  Why was it all so easy.  

 

     Chan’s frowned deepened.  Jeongin forced himself to ignore it.  “Try getting up if you can, okay?  You might feel better after that, and maybe try taking a hot shower.  That usually helps with headaches and I’ll get you something for your stomach, okay?”

 

      Jeongin nodded.  He had expected that.  Chan never wanted to work them too hard, and definitely didn’t want them working when they were sick, but he also the difficulties of missing even just one day of schedules.  So, if they didn’t have a fever, weren’t throwing up, weren’t obviously sick, and weren’t injured, he usually tried to get them to go to schedules like normal.  It was easier on everyone that way.  

 

     He got up without protest.  

 

     Chan gave him a pat on the back after he stood, guiding him out of the room and to the general direction of the bathroom.  Jeongin didn’t say anything, following along without question.  Once Chan got him most of the way to the bathroom, he broke away to head to the kitchen, letting Jeongin to fend for himself.  

 

     He was okay with that.  

 

     He shouldn’t burden them more than he already had.

 

      He slipped into the shower, washing thoroughly.  It would be his last shower after all.  He might as well make it count.  As he soaped up his legs and arms, he ran his fingers of the raised cuts and indented scars.  

 

     He hoped that none of them blamed themselves for them.  It wasn’t their fault.  In fact, they were the only reason he had used to hesitate.  It was his own fault they were there.  His own stupid mistakes had put them there.  

 

     They probably wouldn’t blame themselves anyway.  For them to do that, they would have to care.  He liked to pretend sometimes that they did, but he knew they didn’t.  If they did, then it would just be a waste.  They had so much else they could care and worry about.  Not him.  He hoped they didn’t care about him.  

 

     After a long, twenty minute shower he stepped out and wrapped a fluffy towel around himself.  He leisurely dried himself off, taking extra time to dry his hair rather than living it drippy, and got dressed.  He didn’t need to get into his school uniform.  They weren’t going in until later in the day because of schedules.  They had a photo shot that needed to be done early in the morning for the lighting to work out.  So, he slipped on a long sleeved baggy black shirt and a pair of jeans.  

  

     Once he was dressed he brushed his teeth, put on some makeup to cover his dark circles, and left the bathroom. 

 

     He could smell the breakfast Chan had made before he even got to the kitchen.  It really smelled amazing, but it just made him want to throw up.  

 

      He forced down the bile rising in his throat, took a deep breath, and walked into the kitchen.  

 

    The table was already set and Chan, Changbin, Minho and Seungmin were all already there, sitting in their usual seats.  He assumed that both Hyunjin and Woojin were still asleep, or rather, just waking up and that Jisung and Felix were getting ready.  That’s how their mornings usually went.  It was all quite predictable.  In fact, he was fairly sure that Jisung would come in behind him in just a few minutes and Felix not long after.

 

     “Good morning,” Seungmin call groggily.  He hummed in response.      

 

     Changbin and Chan were both nursing a cup of coffee, black as usual and Minho and Seungmin were starting to load up their plates.  Jeongin silently slipped into his normal seat, knowing that he’d been noticed the minute he’d walked in.  

 

     “Are you feeling any better Innie?” Chan asked.  With that statement, three more pairs of eyes turned to look at him and he forced himself not to shy away as he shook his head.  

 

     “You’re not feeling well?” Minho asked from across the table, instinctively reaching over to press a hand against his forehead.  “You feel pretty cold.  Maybe you caught something while we were outside the other day?  I think there are some things going around.”

 

     Jeongin shrugged picking at the hem of his shirt.  He didn’t want to attention on him, but he wouldn’t avert it.  “Do you think you can go to practice today?” Seungmin asked.  He shrugged again.  

 

     There was a pause for a short moment before someone spoke up.  “Do you think you can eat anything?”  It was Changbin.  Once again he shrugged.  He knew he wouldn't be able to.  He knew it was a lie, but he wasn’t about to admit that. 

 

     “I think you should at least try,” Chan said gently.  “It might help to get something in your stomach and if you’re going to take medicine then you really need to eat.”

 

      Jeongin nodded and started to make himself a small plate of food.  Chan got him some medicine and a glass of water as promised and went back to his seat.  

 

      He picked at the food.  Instinctively, his brain started counting.  Calories, grams of fat, sugar, sodium.  It was all adding up.  It would make him fat.  Fatter than he already was.  

 

     He ignored it and took a bite.  Then a second and a third.  The fourth is when his underfed stomach protested.  He felt bile starting to rise in his throat, but it didn’t come up all the way.  He took another bite, chewing quickly.  His stomach protested again.  Six, seven, eight, nine.  Ten is when his stomach he nearly had to give in completely.  Eleven, twelve, thirteen.  Fourteen is when his overwhelmed stomach finally gave in and the bile rose so quickly that he barely had time to make it to the trashcan before the was retching out everything he’d eaten that morning. 

 

      A hand was on his back almost immediately.  A voice spoke in his ear, telling him to just hang on, and that it’d be over soon, which it was.  He’d barely eaten anything after all, but he continued to dry heave.  It’d been so long since he’d thrown up without shoving his fingers down his throat that he’d almost forgotten what it was like.  

 

     He quickly decided that he hated it even more.  

 

     “Deep breaths alright,” someone, presumably Chan, said.  “Can you grab a rag for me?”  There was the sound of a chair bing pushed on from on under the table and footsteps leaving the room.  

 

     Eventually, he managed to calm himself enough so that the retching and gagging calmed down to deep breaths.  Chan was still whispering in his ear, and someone was wiping a rag over his face.  He was thankful to be rid of the snot and bile that hadn’t leaked into the trashcan.  

 

     A few moments later, he felt Chan pulling him to his feet.  “Why don’t you go lie down?  Seungmin can you take him to his room?” Chan called gently.  “I’ll call our manager and tell him you won’t be able to come to practice today.”

 

     A second later, he felt another arm wrap around him, supporting his weight, just like the burden he was.  He forced himself to hold most of his own weight, even though his legs felt weak.  It made the journey back to his room slower, but at least he wasn’t being as much of a burden.  At least he wasn’t dragging them down.  

 

    “Lie down and rest okay.  I think Woojin’s going to bring you something for your stomachache since you didn’t take it earlier,” Seungmin explained, helping him into bed and covering him with the blanket.  

 

      Jeongin felt himself laying on his notebook.  It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t bother moving it.  It was just another reminder that it was there.  That it would comfort him.  That it wouldn’t leave him alone.  He wouldn’t be alone as long as it was next to him.  

 

     Seungmin ran a hand through his hair before saying a quick,”Feel better soon” and leaving the room.  

 

     Woojin did, in fact bring the medicine in, setting it on the bedside table along with a cup of tea and a bowl of soup.  He told him to eat as soon as he thought he could handle it, and to take the medicine after so that it wouldn’t make him feel any worse.  Jeongin nodded in response, promising that he would do it.  

 

    Woojin left and about ten minutes later, Chan peaked his head in to tell him that they were leaving and that Felix would be back at around 1:00.  He was ordered to get as much rest as possible while he could and with that, they were gone.  

 

     He waited a good thirty minutes before he even dared to move.  He couldn’t risk ruining his plan.  Not when he was so close.  

 

     When he did, all he did was move off of his notebook so that he could grab it and open it up to the last page.  The only one left among his scribbles of pain and withered pages of panic.  

 

     He decided to make one last entry. 

 

* * *

 

     Everything just felt wrong and he couldn’t pinpoint what.  

 

      As he went through his photoshoot, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the photographer.  Everything that was said to him went in one ear and out the other and he followed commands with robotic motions.  It was something they’d all learned to do after awhile.  It was the only way they managed to make it through the day sometimes.  

 

      “Jisung-ssi, could you tilt your head to the left just a little,” the photographer called and he tilted his head as he was told.

 

      The feeling was oddly familiar.  Like a distant memory, or perhaps a suppressed one.  Wherever he felt it before, he didn’t seem to recall it, or maybe he just didn’t want to.  He tried hard for a few moments to remember, but it was taking up too much time and focus.  

 

    It was probably better to just forget it anyway.  Nine times out of ten any weird feelings he got were just figments of his imagination, usually caused by over exhaustion of stress.  He chalked it up to that. 

 

     It was nothing to worry about.  Nothing.

 

* * *

 

     Jeongin slipped out of bed after he finished writing.  The floor was cold on his bare feet.  It sent a chill all throughout his body.  He shivered and glanced at the soup and tea on his bedside table. 

 

     They’d been hot when Woojin had brought them in.  Steaming and warm.  It would’ve felt so nice to sip the warm, flowery liquid and guzzle the salty soup.  But they were cold now, just like he was.

 

    He ate them anyway.  He’d made a promise after all, and he took the medicine too, even if he did throw it up right after.  His stomach still wasn’t up to eating it seemed.  He really wasn’t surprised.  He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d eaten a full meal and not thrown it up.  Was it a week ago, or maybe a few months ago, time had started to blur together after awhile. 

 

      He’d ignored the smell of vomit that had filled the bathroom and walked back to his room and grabbed his drawstring bag.  He’d started to keep it closer, so that if he ever felt the need, he could just reach under and grab it.  

 

     It had everything he needed inside.  

 

      A few boxes of benadryl along with a water bottle if he ever decided to take it along anywhere.  It held all of his notes, written long before then but never sealed in case he decided to rewrite or add something onto it.  It had extra paper, pens, and envelopes if he needed them and it even had a small, little blade, just in case.  

 

     He took his bag and walked into the kitchen.

 

     Once he was there, he took out all the letters, all ten of them.  He read them each carefully, taking in every detail, and making sure they said everything he wanted, or needed to say.  He ended up rewriting, most of them, and the rest were revised in some way.  He either added, or scribbled out words, or even entire paragraphs.  He had to make sure they were perfect because they deserved the best.  After he’d caused so many problems, they deserved to have some sort of relief. 

 

     After he’d finished, he lay them all out neatly, setting them each next to each other in perfectly aligned row.  He double checked that they were all sealed and each had the corresponding name on the backs for each person.  

 

     By then, it was almost 11:00 but that didn’t matter.  

 

     Once he’d finished the letters, he walked about the dorm.  It was messy, especially Jisung’s room, but that was nothing new.  He decided he would clean it up for them.  He was already such a mess himself, he should take it along with him.  

 

     It took him awhile to clean.  He’d done the dishes, the laundry, swept the floors, made the beds, picked up old pieces of paper from Chan’s late night brainstorming sessions (uncrumpling them and putting them neatly in a spare folder in case they were ever needed again), filling up a binder with ideas and suggestions from Changbin that he refused to organize, washed Minho’s dirty old dance bag that he refused to attempt to clean, took cups or plates that had been left around Jisung’s room from late night snack cravings, grabbed dirty tissues that surrounded Hyunjin’s bed from a webtoon that had left him in tears as usual, polished Woojin’s guitar so that it looked shiny and new, organized Felix’s Korean notes so that they weren’t all just strewn across the desk, and closed up Seungmin’s diary from where it lay open on his bed and took it and other books and put them away.  

 

     The dorm was spotless by the time he was done.  It looked almost like it had when they’d moved in.  

 

      At that point, he wasn’t sure what time it was, but he guessed it was somewhere around noon, maybe a little after.  He didn’t really have much time, but it would be more than enough to do what he needed.  

 

      He took his drawstring bag and his notebook from where he’d left them in the kitchen and made his way to the bathroom.  

 

      He shut the door behind him, but didn’t lock it.  He saw no point in causing them further trouble.  Not if he didn’t have too.  He’d already been such a burden.  

 

      He started to pull the remaining things in his bag out.  

 

     The pills, the water bottle, and his little razor.  

 

      He lay them out on the bathroom counter, along with his notebook.  He took them all in, staring for a few minutes.  He picked up each item, inspecting it as though it was evidence of a murder case.  

 

     Once he picked up his little razor, he pulled up his shirt sleeve and made a little cut.  It was nothing serious, just a little scratch.  Not longer than an inch or so, and barely even deep enough to draw blood.  Little droplets of the red liquid beaded to the surface, but that was all.  After a moment, it didn’t even hurt anymore.

 

     So, he made another. 

 

      He went a little deep, but it was the same length.  It hurt.  It bleed a little more, but it was still so meek in comparison to ones he’d made in the past.  So he made another, and then another and soon his arm was covered in red, but that was okay.  

 

     He wouldn’t need it soon anyway. 

 

     He sat his little blade down, all red with blood.

 

     Then he took the packages of pills and started popping the pills out of their containers.  It took awhile, but eventually, he had a small pile of pills and had thrown all the empty boxes away.  There was more than he’d thought there’d be.  A lot more, but he didn’t think much of it.  

 

      He opened he water bottle, only hesitating for a moment before he took the first pill.  

 

      He didn’t feel anything immediately, but he hadn’t expected to.  He remembered his mom giving him benadrill for minor allergic reactions, or on nights he couldn’t sleep.  It usually took around thirty minutes for it to kick in from what he could recall.  He assumed it would pick up the speed a bit after he took more.  

 

     So, Jeongin took a second pill, throwing it back with a small sip of water.  

 

      He thought vaguely, as he took the third, about what people would say when they heard about his death.  Probably things like ‘He was too young.’ or ‘He was just a kid.’  He laughed into the water bottle as he took the sixth and seventh together.  

 

      He didn’t feel young.  He didn’t feel like a kid.  

 

      He felt like he was old, centuries old.  He felt as though his mind had long since been dead, and was just waiting for his body to catch up.  There was no way he couldn’t be old.  

 

     Because, if he was seventeen, and died at seventeen, then he must be old.  

 

        Things started to be called old when they neared the end of their life.  A person was normally considered old at seventy to eighty while a dog was considered old at twelve.  That was because they were nearing they end of their lives, and so they were old.  Even objects seemed to have a sense of old and new.  Phones were considered old after only a few years and antiques were practically immortal.  

 

      And if he was looking at it that way, his hyungs were the ones who were young, while he was ages old.  They will all have lived longer than him, so they were young.  They still had their full lives ahead of them.  And he didn’t want to ruin that just because he was a mess-up.  

 

      He’d lost count of how many pills he’d taken, but his pile was significantly smaller, and he was taking them by the three’s.  His stomach had started to feel off, queasy, but he ignored it.  When he felt bile trying to rise in his throat, he forced it back with three more pills and a gulp of water.  

 

       It left a bad taste in the back of his throat but he didn’t care.  

 

      He kept on taking pills, three by three.  He’d taken around three fourths of the pile when he started to notice something.  

 

       He was dizzy and shaking.  His visions was going hazy and it was getting hard to pick up the pills.  He dropped one on accident, but didn’t bother trying to pick it up.  He felt like if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to get up again.  So he just picked up another one, along with two more and threw it back.  His stomach jolted violently, and his vision blurred further.  He forced himself to fight threw it.  

 

     There was only a little bit left after all.  So he picked up three more, and threw them back.  

 

* * *

 

     Woojin shuddered.  

 

      He’d always thought that he had a sort of parental instinct.  At least that’s what everyone told him.  Like he knew if someone he cared for was hurt without actually knowing.  He just knew and that was that.  

 

     He and Chan were really both like that.  They didn’t need some sort of evidence, they could just feel at and at that moment, he felt like something was horribly wrong.  

 

      He looked around at everyone in the car.  All eight of them had been squished into one car that was only made for seven, not including the driver.  It was cramped, but it seemed like they were always shoved up right next to each other.  None of them really minded if they were being honest.

 

     They all seemed to be fine, but Jeongin, he really couldn’t be sure.  

 

     They’d left him home alone to fight whatever sickness was plaguing him.  They couldn’t even go and check up on him every once and awhile because they had to be away at schedules and photoshoots.  They just had to trust that he was old enough to take care of himself and that he would be okay.  They also had to trust that if he started feeling bad enough to go to the hospital, he would call them, or 911 if he felt it was serious enough.  

 

     And as much as he hated to admit it, Jeongin wasn’t a baby anymore.  

 

     He was old enough to take care of himself.  He could take his medicine on his own, and get more if he needed.  He didn’t need to be spoon fed his meal and he didn’t need help getting himself cleaned and dressed.  And if though he was still just a kids in Woojin’s eyes, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was old enough to take care of himself if the situation called for it and he had to trust that.  

 

     So he chalked his parental instinct, the one telling him to run home and check on Jenogin, up to his overprotectiveness and forced himself to ignore it as the car pulled up to drop them off at the company building.  

 

* * *

 

     Jeongin was dizzy.  His head hurt and he’d almost thrown up more than a few times.  He’d started to see things that weren’t actually there and he wanted to cry.  Why wasn’t he just falling asleep?  That’s what happened whenever he’d taken them as a kid.  He’d just gone to sleep.  Just like that.  Why wasn’t he now? 

 

     Most of the pile was gone, leaving only a few stray pills that he couldn’t force himself to take.

 

     His hands shook violently as he looked for something, anything to ground him.  His eyes landed on his little blade, still red with blood.  It had helped before, it could help again.  

 

      He took it and started slicing up his arm with sporadic movements and quivering hands.  He was pretty sure he cut through something important at some point.  He was bleeding a lot.  It was all over the white tile floor.  Since when did that happen?  

 

     He looked down at his arm again.  It was shredded all they way from his wrist up.  There was barely an inch between each cut.  Some were shallow, but most were deep and they hurt, but he barely felt them.  The medicine had numbed him.  

 

     And he was panicking again and vaguely, he realized that he was afraid.  No he was terrified.  

 

      What if he’d messed up?  What if it didn’t work?  What if he didn’t do it right?  What if he made a mistake?  What if?  What if?  What if?  

 

      ‘What if’s were running through his head so rapidly that he barely noticed the edges of his vision darkening.  He didn’t notice when dizziness turned to confusion and when ‘what if’s turned to ‘what’s going on’.  Shaking and tense hands turned to weak bags of bone and flesh and his headache turned to a loud buzz in the back of his head.  

 

       Jeongin stumbled, but just barely managed to catch himself on the counter before he fell the the ground.  A few of the remaining pills quietly fell to the now red floor and he knocked his notebook off as well.  He wanted to pick it up, but he could barely move without feeling as though he was falling.  

 

     Somewhere, far in the distance it seemed, a door opened, but he payed it no mind.  Instead, he started at his little black notebook and started to cry.  He was scared but relieved at the same time.  He felt himself slipping, black clouding his vision and making it hard to see.  

 

     His name was called, but he didn’t care.  That didn’t matter.  He was almost gone, that’s what mattered to him.  

 

     He could hear his name being called again.  The voice was incredibly familiar, but he didn’t try and figure out who it was.  He didn’t care.  

 

      It was called again before going silent for awhile.  Jeongin’s vision had gone completely dark, and for a second he felt like he was falling.  He barely felt himself hit the floor and the last thing he heard was a quiet, petrified voice before he fell under completely.  

 

     He’d finally won. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Felix opened to door to the dorm.  He was the only one allowed to go back since he did online school.  At least until his korean improved, and it was better that way anyway.  They were all relived that Jeongin wouldn’t have to be alone for the entire day.  

 

     It was quiet inside, almost suffocatingly so, but he assumed that it meant Jeongin was asleep and forced himself to ignore it.  

 

     Instead, he shut the door behind him, almost cringing at how loud it was in comparison to the quiet dorm.  He made sure the be quiet as he stepped down the hallway, setting his bag down on the couch as he passed through the living room.  He couldn’t help but noticed how clean the room was.  Before he’d left, he was pretty sure that there had been at least a few soda cans left out and maybe some plates, but they were gone.  The throw pillows were even picked up off the floor from where Jisung thrown them at Hyunjin.  

 

      He didn’t let himself dwell on it long, thinking perhaps someone picked up right before the left or the night before and he just didn’t notice

 

      He wandered into the kitchen.  It was clean to.  The dishes were done.  The counter’s were wiped down and everything was put in it’s right place and if he was being honest, it unsettled him.  

 

     Especially since the only thing out of place were ten letters spread neatly across the counter, each having a name written on them.  Chan, Woojin, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Seungin, Mom and Dad, Daewon and Minsoo (Jeongin’s brothers), and one to him.  Each one was written with great care, and the envelopes were crisp and new looking, pure white and pretty.  They were all sealed perfectly, not one lump or wrinkle.  

 

     He knew that they had to have been from Jeongin, but it wasn’t like him.  Jeongin preferred to just outright say how he felt rather than writing them.  He always said his hand cramped up when he wrote too much.  

 

      The uneasy feeling in his stomach intensified into something that just felt outright wrong and without thinking, he called out.  

 

     “Jeongin-ah!”

 

      He didn’t get a reply but that was because Jeongin was asleep.  He told himself that again, but the wrong didn’t go away.  

 

     “Jeongin!”

 

      He started to wander through the dorm.  He checked rooms as he walked by.  The laundry room?  No.  Chan’s and Changbin’s room?  No.  Their room?  No.  

 

     The wrong intensified and he thought he would be sick.  His stomach as churning violently, telling him that something wasn’t right.  

 

    “Jeongin!”  

 

     He waited for a moment, hoping and praying for a reply when Hyunjin, Jisung, and Seungmin’s room turned up empty.  It was quiet, utterly and painfully silent when he heard a loud thud.  

 

    ‘It came from the bathroom’ he’d thought vaguely and his legs carried him there before he could think anything else.  He grabbed the door handle with a shaking hand and tried to push it open.  It only opened about a foot before it hit something and refused to open anymore.  

 

     He squeezed his head through the door and he felt sick again.  

 

      “J-Jeonginnie.  O-Oh god.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . Happy Halloween . . . ??? 
> 
> Normally I would start things off with the symbolism but there really wasn't any in this chapter. At least not things that I'd seen. The title is in reference to the prologue if but that's about it. 
> 
> As I said in the notes before the chapter, I was super stressed while writing this chapter. This month was so busy for me and I'm honestly so ready for November which is odd because my favorite holiday is Halloween and I literally start getting ready for it during the summer. I love Halloween so much but this month has just been so stressful on me. I'm going to rant a bit because I just really need to but you can skip all of this paragraph if you'd like. I decided to do a play at my school (it was the Outsiders which is like my favorite book ever). I got the part of Sodapop (I'm a girl by the way) and I was supre nervous. I've never played a guy before and I think I got the hang of it, but then about a week before the play, none of the main characters (Ponyboy and Johnny) knew their lines while everyone else was ready to go. I was super stressed about it because most of my cue lines are Ponyboy's lines. Then, the two practices two days before the play, the main character didn't show up to rehearsal, dress and tech rehearsal, possibly the most important ones. Not only did I have the play, but my sister was in a pageant the weekend before which was putting stress on all of our family for some reason (she was struggling to explain her platform). We also had a big event in my town that weekend, one I've been to literally every year since I was born. The week after we had an important event at my church, and it's literally one of the biggest events of the year and I've helped out every year since we started it. I was also worried about not getting this chapter done on time but in the end, everything worked out. I did well in the play (I was told by many I was the best and most expressive on stage) and the our Ponyboy and Johnny really came through for us and studied the heck out of their lines. The event in my town was great and my sister got basically the equivalent of runner up at the pageant (she got a crown and a sash and she did get a title but I won't say because it'll give away where I live and it wasn't the highest she couldn't gotten). The church event went amazing and I got this chapter done on time, a day early in fact, and I might actually get to enjoy halloween! Still ready for November though. 
> 
> Okay rant over, that was longer than I thought. 
> 
> I do have a few announcements so please read them! 
> 
> This one regards the other things I've been working on. The wings series will take longer than I thought because I'm going to have to do quite a bit of research and so will the SF9 story I've been working on. They won't start for awhile but instead, I have another thing that I've been thinking about posting and this is something that is pretty much ready to go. 
> 
> I've been struggling to write my original stories lately. Not a fanfic but like my own things, usually just for me but I eventually want to get something published some day. I've been working on a novel for a year and haven't even gotten past the first chapter. I want to continue it but I'm not feeling motivated so awhile back I started writing about something I was and still am really interested in which is Kpop. I made myself and original boy group, as well as a girl group, and a co-ed group but the boy group was the main focus and I started writing about them. Would any of you be interested in seeing that? I have full profiles for the main group ready to go and I would love to share their stories so tell me if you want to see that in the comments! 
> 
> That's all for now I hope you liked this! 
> 
> Next chapter Deadline: December 1st


	8. Loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew it was their fault. No letter would change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter!? So early!? Even I'm surprised but this chapter was surprisingly easy to write. It's probably because, once again, this chapter doesn't include any symbolism and follows a sequence of events all happened right after each other. In short, it didn't take nearly as much planning. It's also national writers month and my goal is to write at least five thousands characters (my computer counts characters cause it's stupid and I don't know how to change it) a day (my chapters average around 22,000 characters or around 4,000-5,000 words). I do have an announcement at the end chapter notes, but that's all for now, I hope you enjoy.

  “J-Jeonginnie.  O-Oh god.”

 

      Felix felt paralyzed as he looked down at the scene in front of him.  Blood smeared across the white tiles, leading to a person.  Leading to Jeongin.  Small pink pills scattered across the floor.  A red covered blade on the counter.  

 

      He threw up.  Everything he’d eaten that day was spread across the floor mixing with red and when he was done, he felt paralyzed again.  

 

      It took a good minute before he managed to come to his senses. 

 

     He forced himself through the small crack in the door, almost throwing up again when he had to force the deadweight that was Jeongin over to slip inside. 

 

     When he was inside he took shaky steps towards the boy.  His eyes were closed and blood steady leaked from his exposed arm, which was littered with cuts.  His arm was thin, much thinner than it should’ve been.  He probably could’ve easily wrapped his hand around the thicker part of his forearm and even he thought his own hands were small.  Jeongin was pale, almost gray.  There were dark purple bags under his eyes, and even though he seemed to be unconscious, he still look exhausted, tired features standing out prominently on his young face and with that thought, another, much more terrifying one, hit him like a punch to the stomach.  

 

     What if he wasn’t just unconscious.  

 

     And then he was moving dropping to his knees next to the younger boy.  Warm blood was seeping through his jeans but he ignored it as he quickly moved quivering hands to the boy’s neck.  He’d checked his own pulse enough times, it was a habit whenever he was nervous, so he easily found what he was looking for.  

 

     A slow, slightly unsteady heartbeat, but a heartbeat all the same.  He clung to that like a life line, not letting his hand leave the boy’s neck as he shakily, but hastily, pulled his phone from his back pocket.  He quickly opened it up and dialed 119 and moved the phone up next to his ear.

 

     He shook as it rang.  His hand was still pressed to Jeongin’s neck, feeling for the pulse, fearing that each time it beat, it would be his last.  

 

     “119 what is your emergency?”

 

     Felix choked on a sob he didn’t realize he’d been holding back.  Tears were running down his face.  _“M-My fr-friend - I - he - he - I need and ambulance p-pl-ease.”_

 

     “Sir, I’m afraid I can’t understand you?  Do you only know english?”

 

      He’d been speaking english?  He hadn’t noticed, but suddenly, his mind blanked.  He couldn’t think straight.  What were the words?

 

    “Sir?”

 

     He tired again, cursing his own instability.  Jeongin needed help, and he couldn’t even manage to say what was wrong properly.  “M-My friend - h-he needs a-an ambulance.  Q-quickly plea-se.”  He sobbed again.  Why was this happening?

 

     “Okay and what is your address?”

 

     He barely managed to choke out the location of their dorm, once again begging them to hurry.  

 

     “An ambulance is on their way, but I need you to stay on the phone okay?  I’m going to ask you some questions about your friend and I need you to answer to the best of your ability.  Can you do that for me?”

 

     He nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see that and stuttered a quiet “Yes.”

 

      “What is wrong with your friend?”

 

      Felix sobbed again.  Why that question?  He knew exactly what was wrong, but answering the question would make it real.  He didn’t want it to be real.  He wanted it to be a nightmare, and he wanted to wake up and he wanted Chan and Changbin to be there to comfort him and he wanted Jeongin to there, to be okay, and to tell him that he was alright.  

 

    “Sir?”

 

     “Th-there are a-a- bunch of c-cuts on his arm -nd it l-looks like h-he might’ve t-take some pills.”  His voice sounded pathetic even to him.  He heard the clicking of a keyboard for a moment before the operator asked another question. 

 

     “Do you know what he took?”

 

     Felix glanced up at the counter.  There were some boxes there.  What had they been?  “B-benadryl I think?”  

 

     “Do you know how much he took?”

 

     He glanced up again, there were four boxes, but there were some pills spilled on the floor.  “Th-there are f-four boxes b-but I don’t th-think - don’t think he took ‘em all.”  There was more typing, then the operator spoke again.  

 

     “Okay, and what is your friends age, height, and weight.  If you aren’t sure then guess as accurately as you can.”

 

    “H-He’s s-s-seventeen.”  God Jeongin was still so young.  He didn’t deserve this.  “He’s a-around 1- 172 c-centimeters I think and -“ He paused.  Jeongin’s weight?  He wasn’t sure.  Seungmin was around 56 kilograms so he couldn’t be much less than that, but he looked so thin.  He thought back to the time when he’d felt Jeongin’s ribs, so prominent underneath his fingertips.  He thought maybe - no - no.  Jeongin wouldn’t do that.  He wouldn’t.  “55 k-kilograms?”  He guessed but he didn’t feel sure.  He didn’t even feel close to sure. 

 

      “Okay.  The ambulance should be there any minute.  I’m going to ask you one last question.  Does your friend have a pulse?”

 

      “Y-ye-“ he started but then he realized.  There wasn’t one.  It was gone.  He moved his hand, hoping that he’d just shifted and that it was still there, but he couldn’t find it.  He phone nearly fell out of his hand as he searched with the other but it wasn’t there.  Where was it.  Why didn’t he have a pulse?  “No!  No!  C-can’t find it, h-he do-doesn’t have a pulse!  P-please they need to get here!” 

 

     “They’re coming as fast as they can, but I need you to calm down first okay?  Now, do you know how to do CPR?”

 

     Felix had to think, mind whirling in panic and clouding his judgment.  Did he know?  He’d seen it done in crime shows and dramas before, and hadn’t he been taught in heart class before?  What was it?  Five breaths every forty compressions?  No, that didn’t sound right.  Maybe one for every twenty?  No that wasn’t right either.  Two for - 

 

     “Sir!  I need you to calm down and listen to me if you want your friend to live.  Now tell me, do you know CPR or not?”

 

      He was jerked from his thoughts at the operators sharp tone.  He hadn’t expected it, but he forced himself to stutter out an answer.  “I-I think s-s-so.  I-I’m not - not sure.”  

 

      “Alright, an ambulance should be there in less than five minutes.  For now, I want you to put the phone down, but put it on speaker.  I’ll guide you through it.”

 

     Felix followed the operator’s instructions, putting the phone down, accidentally dropping it before he actually sat it down.  His hands were shaking too much.  He still didn’t want it to be real.  

 

    “Okay, put your hands on the middle of his chest, one on top of the other.”

 

     Felix forced himself to focus on the operator’s instructions and did as he was told.  His hands felt weak.  He didn’t think he could do it, but he had to.  He couldn’t let Jeongin die.  

 

     “Once you’ve done that, push down.  You’re going to need to press as hard as you can.  Don’t worry about hurting him, he’ll be fine.”

 

     Felix pushed down.  His arms quivered.  He couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t.  Jeongin was going to die because he couldn’t do it.  

 

     “Push in about two inches if you can and try to go as fast as you can, but don’t exhaust yourself.  Don’t worry about rescue breaths okay?  Just focus on the compressions.”

 

     He choked out a sob.  Tears were blurring his vision and snot was getting in his mouth.  It was salty.  He probably looked like a mess, blood on his jeans and hands, tear stricken face and red eyes.  Jeongin was going to die and it would be all his fault.  

 

     He didn’t stop though.  

 

     The operator was encouraging him, telling him to keep going and reminding that the paramedics would be there soon.  When his arms started to tire, he’d cried harder, fearing that he wasn’t strong enough, but the operator, bless their soul continued to encourage him.  He continued going, aching arms and all.  He prayed that it was enough, he begged the god and heaven above that they would make some miracle happen and, when the operator asked him to check Jeongin’s pulse, he was able to sigh in relief for a very brief moment.  

 

     Jeongin’s pulse was back, albeit weak and slow, but it was back and he found himself crying, thanking the deity above that he’d allowed Jeongin a second chance.  

 

     He heard the front door open only seconds after.  Paramedics were shouting, asking where they were and he called back, his voice cracking.  “In here!”  He sounded awful, but that didn’t matter.  

 

     Rapid footsteps headed their direction, and seconds later the door was thrown open.  

 

      “Out of the way!” one of the paramedics  commanded sternly. 

 

     Felix hesitated for a brief moment before he moved out of the way, grabbing his phone as he did.  He brought it up to his ear, the operator was still there, asking of the paramedics had shown up.  “Y-Yes they’re h-here.”  His voice shook, and it sounded much higher than his naturally deep tone.  “Thank you,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady so that he could truly express his gratitude.  He hung up after, turning his attention back to the paramedics.  

 

     “Pulse is weak, he’s lost a lot of blood,” one said as she wrapped a bandage quickly but skillfully around Jeongin’s arm.  Another was sorting through the pill boxes on the counter, while the third was preparing to lift him up onto and orange board as soon as the first was ready.  

 

     “He took around 800 milligrams.  It’s a lethal dose, we need to leave now.” the one who was going through pill boxes said.  

 

     “Help me lift him,” the third said, grabbing Jeongin’s legs and preparing to lift him up.  The first grabbed under Jeongin’s shoulders.  “One, two, three.”

 

    As soon as he was on, they strapped him down so that he wouldn’t fall as they moved and they moved past him, pushing him out of the way.  The third followed close behind them, but stopped when he reached him.  “Do you want to ride in the ambulance?”  he asked while placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.  

 

     Felix nodded slightly, his voice gone.  

 

     “Alright then, come on.  We need to leave quickly.”

 

     Felix followed, but hesitated as he walked through the kitchen.  The letters.  They were waiting for them, pretty, clean, and peaceful on the counter.  Waiting to tell them something that they should’ve seen before, like a rumor that was spread around high school.  Something everyone at least heard but never was sure if it were true or not.   

 

     He grabbed them as he walked by, shoving them in his jacket pocket along with his phone and followed the paramedic down the the ambulance.  The other two paramedics had already put Jeongin on a gurney and were pushing him into the ambulance. 

 

     He looked so vulnerable like that.  Unmoving, pale grayish skin, and closed eyes.  He looked tired, no, exhausted, and frail.  Felix was sure he would be able to break him with just one touch.  Jeongin wasn’t meant too look like that.  He was still young, but he didn’t look it.  He looked older, far beyond his years.  Like a wise old man who’d seen too much in his many years on earth.  He wasn’t supposed to look like that, especially when it made him look more corpse like than he already did.  

 

     “Let’s go.”  The paramedic gently guided him into the ambulance.  He was sat somewhere as they paramedics worked, saying things that he couldn’t understand, whether it be because of their fast words or foreign terms.  He decided he didn’t want to know what they were saying when the words ‘Losing him’ were eventually thrown into the mix of the few words he actually understood. 

 

     He focused on Jeongin instead, or rather, what Jeongin had done.  Why?  Why did he do it?  Why didn’t he come to them?  Why hadn’t they seen it?  

 

     Had they been to caught up in their debut and second comeback of the year to actually notice he was hurting?  Or maybe they were all too focused on themselves?  Perhaps, they’d seen, and just not asked?  

 

     He knew he’d seen some things that weren’t normal.  That just didn’t sit well with him.  Like all the times Jeongin skipped out on meals, blaming it on a new diet.  The extra hours at the studio with the excuse of wanting to improve.  His near over happiness that never really felt true.  Long periods of time in the bathroom to wash up and only returning to look worse than before.

 

     It was like caking on layers of makeup to cover up a truly ugly face.  Fake, but real enough to pass as okay.  

 

     He felt tears welling up in his eyes.  He dug his nails into his hands.  It hurt, but it relieved some of what he was feeling.  He wondered if that’s what Jeongin felt.  When he felt the skin of his hands break, and blood seep between his fingers, he was pretty sure he was right.  

 

     He found himself focusing on that pain rather than what he was feeling because, at that moment, he didn’t want to feel.  It wasn’t until they reached the hospital that he stopped and tried to take in the situation around him.  

 

     “He’s got no pulse, starting CPR, make sure to have the defibrillator charged.” one said as he straddled Jeongin’s frail body and started pressing against his chest with fast harsh movements.  

 

      He’d started crying once more.  Not again.  Not again.  It couldn’t be happening again.  He couldn’t die. 

 

      He followed the paramedics, stumbling as he got out of the ambulance.  They were shouting a doctors came rushing to the gurney.  They were shouting things that he, once again, couldn’t understand, but it only went to further his panic.  He tried to follow them through the doors of the Emergency Room but a nurse stopped him.  

 

     “I’m sorry sir but I’m afraid you can’t go back there right now.” She said.  

 

     “But - I - my friend - I need t-“

 

     “I know, but you can’t go back there with him.  He’s in good hands right know though.  I promise, they’ll take good care of him, okay?”  she asked.  Her voice was gentle and comforting, like a mother.  He nodded.  “Good, now why don’t I take you to a waiting room okay?  A doctor will be there as soon as he has any information in your friend.”  He nodded again, allowing the nurse to lead him to the waiting room, which was thankfully empty.  It was small too, he assumed that it was probably only meant for a few people at a time.  “Now you go sit down right over there honey.  Is there anything I can get you?  Water, tea, a blanket, or maybe someone you’d like me to call.”

 

     Felix thought for a moment.  He realized that answering her question would require him to actually speak.  He wasn’t sure if he could manage that, but he didn’t want to be rude.  

 

     “No, thank you, I’m fine.”  He looked up at her as she spoke.  She wasn’t old, but she was older than him.  Maybe in her late twenties.  She had motherly features, and held a worried look that he’d seen on his own mom and even Chan a couple of times.  It was comforting in more ways than one.  

 

     “Okay.  If you need anything, I’ll just be right around the corner at the front desk.  Don’t hesitate to come find me.”  He nodded in response. 

 

     He heard the door open, and then close, and he was alone.  He almost wished that there’d been someone else there, someone to talk to, or maybe a shoulder to cry on, but he didn’t want anyone to see him that way either.  He didn’t like showing weakness.  

 

      Ten or fifteen minutes of him just sitting in silence was what it took for him to get his bearings.  When he did, he realized that he would have to call the group.  He would have to be the one to tell them. 

 

      He didn’t want to.  He didn’t think he could bare the break the news to them, but somebody had to.  Somebody had to tell them just how bad they’d all messed up.  It looked like that person would be him.  

 

      Numbly, he pulled out his phone and went to his contacts.  Chan was the first one he came across.  He was glad.  Chan was easy to talk to.  He still hesitated before he clicked on the call button.  It took a full minute before he managed to work up the courage to do it, and as soon as he heard the first ring, he almost hung up.  He didn’t want to tell them, but he had to.  

 

     “Oi, Felix, what’s up?”  Chan’s heavy Australian accent filled his ears.  When ever it was just the two of them, they always spoke english.  It was comforting, like his mother’s hug on a stormy night or his dad’s calloused hand on his shoulder in a crowded town square.

 

      “H-Hyung?”  At the sound of the leader’s voice, he felt himself breaking down for what felt like the thousandth time that day.  

   

     Chan seemed to catch on immediately.  “Is something wrong?”

 

      “Yeah.”  His voice cracked.  

 

      “Has Jeongin gotten worse?  Do you need me to come there”  

 

      Felix hiccuped, a sob trying to breach past his lips.  He tried to stop it.  He needed to stay calm.  It was persistent though, and eventually he was forced to take in on gulp of air before the retched sound made it past his lips.  “I’m at - at th-the hos-spital.  Y-you need t-to get ev-everyone and come h-h-here.”

 

      “What’s wrong?” Chan’s voice was still steady, but edging on panic.  Felix could hear it.  “Is Jeongin okay?  Are you okay?”

 

      “J-Jeongin - he - he - I j-just need you - need you to c-c-come here.” He couldn’t tell him over the phone, he decided.  It wasn’t right.  Not when it was only a few miles keeping them apart.  No, they deserved to be told to their faces.  Not through some little box and a garbled speaker.  

 

      Chan was silent for a moment.  Felix could hear faint voices through the phone, as if he was talking to someone, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.  “We’ll be over as soon as possible.  We need to pick up Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Jisung from school then we’ll be right there okay.”

 

     “Th-Thank you h-h-hyung.” Felix’s voice shook like a tree in the wind.  His hands were shaking to and it was making the phone bump against his ear every few seconds.  He didn’t pay attention to that.  “Pl-please hurry.”

 

      “We’re leaving right now, just hang on for us okay baby.  I’ll see you soon.  I love you.”  

 

      Felix sobbed again.  It felt so good to hear those words.  “Love you too.” 

 

      With that, the call was over, but Felix wished it wasn’t.  He felt alone again, and it wasn’t until then that he thought of Jeongin.  

 

     He must’ve felt alone too.  Dying slowly, alone, on the cold bathroom floor.  He’d probably felt alone for a long time, if he didn’t then maybe he would’ve found one of them.  Maybe they wouldn’t be in the situation that they were in.  Was it his fault?  Had he left Jeongin?  Made him feel alone?  He wished he could ask, but then he remembered.  

 

     The letters.  Jeongin had something to tell him.  He’d left them and answer, maybe not to all of his questions, but he had an answer.  

 

     He ripped them from his pocket.  They’d been crinkled and creased but he still quickly flipped through them, searching for his own name.  He found it quickly, around the middle of the stack, and sat the rest aside.  

 

     He stared at it for a moment.  His name was written neatly in English on the front.  His hands shook as he ran his thumb under the seal, preparing to see whatever was inside.  He was almost to afraid to read it, and he was half tempted to shove it right back inside because reading it seemed like giving up.  Like admitting that Jeongin was dead, gone, and that he was reading his final goodbye.  He didn’t want to give up, but he didn’t think he could bare to not know either, so, after much thought, he opened. 

 

     _Dear Felix,_

 

**Hey Jeongin-ah**

 

The greeting was also written in english.  It was neat, pretty.  More legible than his own chicken scratch.  

 

     _How are you doing?  I hope you’re doing well?_

 

**I’m not well.  Why did you try to leave.**

 

It was written in hangul, as well as the rest of the letter, but it was simpler.  It didn’t use and slang, or informal language, and it, like his name was written in overly neat handwriting.  That wasn’t like Jeongin, at least not the Jeongin he knew, but if he’d learned anything in that past hour or so it was that he didn’t Jeongin as well as he’d thought he did.  

 

     _I guess by the time you’re reading this I’m already gone.  At least, I hope I am._

 

**Why?  We don’t want you gone.  Please stay here.**

 

The punctuation on the letter was also, correct.  Writing had always been one of Joengin’s least favorite classes because he didn’t like dealing with sentence structure and correct punctuation, especially commas.  It confused him. 

     

     _I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore.  To any of you.  I’m sorry that I always was._

 

**You were never a burden.  Why would you think that?**

 

Jeongin had put a lot of time into the letter.  He could tell as he red over the first crease in the paper, folded perfectly straight so that it would fit in the envelope that he’d so carelessly crumpled.  He should’n’t have been so careless with Jeongin’s hard work.  

 

     _Durning the survival show, you got eliminated.  That should’ve been me.  You worked so much harder.  You are so much better.  I should’ve been the one to be eliminated, not you or Minho._

 

**Don’t say that.  You worked harder than all of us.**

 

He noticed a few small splotches on the paper.  Just a few small circles of discoloration.  Tear drops, long dried, but still visible.  Jeongin had cried while writing it.  Had he really wanted to go, or did he feel the he needed to?

 

    _I’m sorry that it wasn’t me, but I’m leaving now.  I can’t bring everyone down anymore, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye._

 

**No.  No.  Don’t say goodbye.**

 

    Felix noticed that more little droplets were joining the other’s on the paper, wet and fresh.  

 

     _I’ve always wanted to tell you this, but you are so strong hyung.  You were forced to leave the group, but then you came back better than ever and you’ve blown everyone away with how much you’ve improved._

 

**You have to Jeonginnie.**

 

_You’re so strong._

 

**I’m not strong.  Stop saying that.**

 

_I’m not strong.  I’m weak.  I’ve always been.  Nothing more than weak._

 

**But you aren’t weak.  You’re so much more than that.  You’ve always been.**

 

_Please don’t blame yourself for my own weakness.  I wasn’t strong enough to keep going and that’s my own fault._

 

**No, it is my fault.  I should’ve been there for you.  You aren’t weak, you never were.  I was just to blind to see you were hurting.**

 

_I know you’ll be so much better without me and you’ll prove everyone wrong with whatever you do.  Whether it be singing, rapping, dancing, or even MCing, you’ll make sure they remember you._

 

**But I won’t be better without you.  You’ve always been the one I’ve looked to for support, encouragement.  I wouldn’t be who I am now without you.**

 

_I’m not worth being remembered, so forget about me.  Please.  It’s for the best.  Just forget me and all the trouble I’ve caused._

 

**How could you tell me to do that?  I couldn’t forget you if I tried.  You’re like my little brother.**

 

_I love you, hyung._

 

**I love you too, Jeonginnie.**

 

_Goodbye._

 

**No.  No.  No!  NO!  Don’t say goodbye.  Please don’t say Goodbye!  Please!  Please don’t day that.  Please don-**

 

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts. 

 

     “Felix?”

 

      He jerked his head up from the letter.  It was crumpling in his hand.  He was gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white.  

 

     Chan was standing there.  The rest of the group was behind him.  There was a brief moment of silence before Felix jumped up from his seat.  Seconds later, he was wrapped in the leader’s embrace, a hand rubbing gently up and down his back.  

 

     “Hey, what’s wrong?  What happened?  Come on, tell hyung what happened.”

 

      Felix just sobbed because he didn’t think he had the heart to tell them.  Now that they were there, infant of him, starting with wide, worried eyes.  Confusion lined their faces and fear shook their bodies.  

 

      “Oh, god.” Minho mumbled.  “Is that blood?”

 

      “Felix please tell me what happened.  Please.”  Chan’s voice was almost begging now.  Like there was someone’s life on the line, which there was.  

 

       “J-Jeongin-nie - he - he tried t-“ Felix broke into another fit of sobs, remembering the scene.  He never wanted to see anything like it again.  Jeongin.  Cold, weak pulse, lying on the cold tile floor surrounded in his own blood.  He didn’t want to even imagine it again.  

 

      “Felix, what did he try to do?”  Chan’s voice was serious, afraid.  Felix hadn’t heard him sound like that before.  

 

      “He-he- he tried t- t- kill -imself.”  Felix wailed.  saying it made it so much more true, and he knew it was real, not some nightmare like he’d hoped, when Chan’s grip tightened around him and he tensed. 

 

     “Y-Your lying,” Hyunjin accused, afraid and voice shaking. 

 

      Felix, shook his head.  “I-I’m n-not.”  Felix pulled away.  “Ffound him on-on the bathroom floor.  His arm w-was all c-cut up ‘nd he t-took a bunch up p-pills.  H-His ‘eart stopped b-beating while I-I was one the phone ‘ith the 119 operator.  Got it going -gain, but It st-stopped on the ambulance.”

 

     “H-He wouldn’t do that!  Jeongin wouldn’t do that!” Hyunjin denied.  His face was fearful, but at the same time firm, unmoving, stubborn.  

 

     “But he did!” Felix all but screamed back.  “He made himself sick so we wouldn’t be home, then he sliced up his arm and swallowed a bunch a pills because he didn’t think that it was worth living anymore!  He said so!  He left us letters just to tell us how much he hated himself and that it isn’t our fault when it sure as hell is!”  Felix reached into his pocket and pulled out the letters.  Nine remained.  

 

      “Your lying,” Hyunjin said again, his voice dark and firm, but there was a slight shake to it.  A sliver of fear hiding somewhere in the back.  

 

      “I’m not,” Felix said, ripping Hyunjin’s letter from the stack.  “Read it for yourself.”  He shoved it at the elder, only giving him a second to grab it before he took his hand away.  

 

      Hyunjin took it, staring for a moment before finally starting to open it.  Everyone watched him as he did.  They watched him as he read and as his expression slowly went from angry, sad, heartbroken, and then back to angry.  He seemed to be taking his time reading it, or he was just merely staring.  His hands were shaking and after a moment he crumpled the letter in his hand before turning and leaving the waiting room, slamming the door behind him.  

 

     “I’ll go after him,” Woojin offered immediately.  “You guys stay here.”

 

      Woojin followed, and there were only six left in the room.  It was silent, and then Felix spoke up again.  

 

     “This is our fault.”

 

     And nobody said anything otherwise because they all knew he was right.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again there isn't much symbolism in this chapter other than the title 'Loser', which I don't talk about in the chapter, but it once again refers back to the first chapter and the description of the story. There it implies that Jeongin wins the games by completing his ultimate goal (suicide or hiding his depression, whichever way you want to see it) and therefore means that the rest of Stray Kids are the losers of the games. 
> 
> Quick random thing, but am I the only one who has major respect for emergency hotline operators? I mean like, someone could literally be being murdered on the other side of the phone and they have to stay calm and collected. I don't think I could do it, but they're amazing. That's all I really had to say about that but I had to ask. 
> 
> Okay so quick announcement. I have decided to post a story about and original k-pop group here on archive. Just click on my username and it should take you to my works. From there, click on 'Alchemy (Becoming Something Better)' and it'll take you to the story. I've posted a profile for one member so far, the leader, and will be posting the next on right after this so probably by the time you get to it, there will be two profiles. I won't be focusing much on that story until this one is finished so don't worry. I'm not abandoning this by any means, I just want to have that story ready to go so I can start up on it as soon as this is done. I'll only be posting the profiles so far, and I might do a Q&A once they're all posted. Don't hesitate to go check it out if you're interested! I'll also be accepting questions on each character profile so long as it pertains to that person, but not too many, I'll stop accepting after I've gotten around ten maybe. That's all I have on that so moving on. 
> 
> Possible Update: December 1st  
>  Update Deadline: December 6th
> 
> Happy National Writers Month! Much love!


	9. Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's tearing them all apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to post this yesterday, then I slept for 14 hours and forgot. oops. 
> 
> I actually had this chapter done awhile ago, but I knew that I wouldn't have time to finish the next chapter before the first and I decided to hold off for awhile. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter cause I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. I like it and I don't. I don't know.

Hyunjin didn’t want to believe it.  Felix was lying.  He was just trying to scare them but it wasn’t funny and it was making him angry.  But, behind that anger, fear lurked and as soon as he was handed the letter, he knew that Felix wasn’t lying.  It didn’t keep him from wanting to deny it though.   

 

     He felt various different emotions as he read through the letter.  Anger, fondness, sadness, heartbreak, guilt.  So many emotions flooding him all at once as he read, the neat handwriting and dark pen strokes standing out against stark white paper.  

 

     _Dear Hyunjin,_

 

_Hey, hyung.  You always liked it when I called you that right?  I know it was always your dream to have a younger brother, at least that’s what you said.  You said that I was like the little brother you never had.  I was glad I could make you smile all those times I let you treat me like a brother.  That was worth it all._

 

Anger dried up into fondness.  **You’ve always been like a little brother, ever since we met.**

 

     _I didn’t understand how you could bare it though.  Treating someone like me like family.  I’m not deserving of that kind of love._

 

Fondness shriveled into sadness.  **Yes you are.  You’ve always deserved it.**

 

_I’ve decided to do you, and everyone else a favor.  I know you might not think it but it really is better for everyone that I’m gone.  I wasn’t happy here anyway.  It hurt to keep going._

 

Sadness rotted into guilt.  **You were hurting and I didn’t see it.**

 

_I know I caused you a lot of problems.  I made you stay late just because I couldn’t get things right.  Just because I’m slowing everyone down you had to sacrifice so much time, sleep, and effort when all I seemed to do was get worse.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry that I was an awful younger brother and I’m sorry that I took away part of your dream, but trust me, I’m not the younger brother you want to have.  You still have Jisung, Felix, and Seungmin.  They all need an older brother too.  You need to realize that I’m not worthy of that kind of love.  I’m just a mess-up._

Guilt festered into heartbreak.  **But You aren’t Jeonginnie.  You’re an amazing little brother.  I wouldn’t want to call anyone else that.**

 

_Don’t blame yourself for this okay.  Don’t make my own worthlessness your fault._

 

Heartbreak sparked into anger.  **But it is my fault.  I’ve got no right to call myself your brother, or even your friend.**

 

_You made it bearable to keep going sometimes, but I was never meant for this life.  Goodbye.  I love you, hyung._

 

Anger exploded into pure fury, rage, coursing through his veins.  **But I couldn’t save you.  I didn’t notice.  I failed you.  I left you alone to suffer all because I turned a blind eye.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I wasn’t the older brother I should’ve been.**

 

He crumpled the letter in his hand, slamming the door as he left the waiting room.  He stormed down the hallways and straight back through the doors he’d entered through.  It was cold out, but he ignored it and the fact that he didn’t have a jacket and speed walked down the street.  Eventually, he collapsed against a brick wall, some odd blocks away from the hospital and subconsciously wiped his face.  

 

    He was crying, but he wasn’t really surprised.  He always cried easily.    

 

     He was acting like a child.  He knew that, and he knew the rest of the group probably knew it to, but he honestly didn’t know how else to act.  How was he expected to act?  His best friend, his little brother, killed himself all because he was too stupid to see that he was hurting.  All because of him.  All because of him . . .

 

    Jeongin might die.  He might’ve succeeded and it was all because of him.  

 

     He started sobbing.  He slid to the ground, curling his head into his knees, hugging himself into the tightest ball he could managed, letter still clutched in his trembling hand.  

 

     “Hyunjin-ah?”

 

      He knew the voice.  He didn’t bother looking up, but apparently, he didn’t need to.  

 

     Because seconds later, Woojin slid down next to him and wrapped and arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.  He leaned into the touch.  He felt like the world was falling apart around him and at least, for that moment, Woojin was holding him together.  

 

     Even if things weren’t okay, at least he wasn’t alone.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Changbin wasn’t sure if he had the courage to read the letter.  After Hyunjin had ran out, Chan had carefully took the eight remaining letters from Felix’s hand.  The poor boy was still in shock after all.  He didn’t need to be dealing with that.  

 

      The leader had handed them off to Minho before take Felix to sit down before hugging him close, whispering quiet comforts in his ear.  Minho had taken to passing out the letters to each respective member with an unreadable face, putting the ones to Jeongin’s parents, brother’s, Chan’s, and Woojin’s in his pocket for later.  

 

     Changbin watched the other members read through the letters, except for Chan, who was still sitting with Felix.  He watched their reactions and how their expressions change.  It made him even more terrified to read his own.  

 

     Seungmin cried before he started his and before sobbed he was even done.  His letter was held close to his chest as he fell to the floor, legs having gone weak, and wailed in anguish.  Jisung didn’t even read his, only getting as far as opening the envelope before sitting it aside.  His face was guilt ridden and he was starting at nothing.  Minho read through his after separating himself, hiding in the corner of the room.  He cried to, but they were silent.  The only indication was his shaking shoulders and quiet gasps. 

 

    After around twenty minutes of just watching, listening, hearing weeping and gasps, he looked down at his own letter.  He ran his fingers over the edge of the envelope and then carefully slid his thumb under the seal.  He owed it to Jeongin to at the very least look at it. 

 

     He almost changed his mind as soon as he started to pull it out of it’s envelope.  

 

     He felt a familiar feeling creep up his spine.  Goosebumps spread across his arms and gave him a chill that went further than bone.  It caused his hands to tremble and his legs to feel weak, despite sitting down.  It bought tears to the back of his eyes and forced him to curl in on himself.  It was like a drug, rushing through his veins, intoxicating his blood and slowly spreading. 

 

     It was fear.  

 

      Fear that had tried and succeeded to keep him from doing what he knew was right.  He could feel it fighting against his own instinct, breaking it down, bashing it, not letting up until it knew it had won.  It wouldn’t this time though.  He wouldn’t let it.  Not again.

 

     It was a struggle, a fight that hurt and left him feeling confused and dazed, but he eventually won and the letter was there in his hand and he was looking at it with red eyes.  

 

     _Dear Changbin,_

 

_I guess if you’re reading this then I’m gone, at least, probably.  I really have enjoyed my time with you hyung.  You were always so fun to be around.  When we first met, you seemed so angry and closed off, but you taught me that I couldn’t judge people based on first meetings.  Thank you for that._

 

**Why are you thanking me?**

 

_I know that I’m not the dongsaeng you deserve.  I’m not sure if you think that too or not though._

 

**What do you mean?  I don’t deserve you, Jeonginnie.**

 

_You’ve been acting different around me lately.  I’m sorry that I’m such a mess-up.  Whatever I’ve done to upset you, I’m sorry about that too.  I knew that I would always drive you all away.  It was only a matter of time._

 

**No.  It was never like that.  I didn’t mean to make you think that.  Please don’t apologize.**

 

_I hope you’re not upset with me now.  I know that I’m causing a lot of problems, but it’ll be nothing compared to the ones I would’ve caused if I’d stayed.  If I were still here, I would just make things worse.  This is for the best._

 

**It’s not.  Please, don’t say that.  I need you here.**

 

_This isn’t your fault, hyung.  It’s mine._

 

**No.  No.  It is my fault.  It’s all my fault.**

 

_I never felt like I belonged.  I tried, but I was never able to.  You will all be so much better without me around and I think, I will be too.  I think it will hurt less now._

 

**But we won’t be better.  I should’ve seen you were hurting.  I should’ve made you feel like you belonged.**

 

_Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.  You’ve always been a great hyung._

 

**I haven’t.  Stop thanking me.**

 

_I love you, even if you don’t feel the same I love you.  As a friend and a brother.  I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.  I won’t cause you anymore problems, so I’ll leave now._

 

**I do love you.  I never meant to make you think that I didn’t.  Don’t leave.**

 

_Goodbye, hyung._

 

**No!  I’m sorry!  Please don’t say goodbye.  Please.  Not yet, I need to tell you I love you.  I’m sorry I made you think that I didn’t.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so so sorry!**

 

Changbin didn’t cry, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t cry.  He didn’t feel that he deserved to cry.  He didn’t deserve to let his emotions out because Jeongin never had.  He never let them see past his wall, despite the cracks.  If he’d just went and asked, maybe he could’ve torn that wall down, let the emotions behind it out, but no, he never did and now he didn’t deserve that comfort either.  

 

     Instead, he wiped harshly at his eyes and blinked back the tears.  He wouldn’t cry.  He wanted to, needed to, but he didn’t deserve to.  

 

     Instead he turned his attention back to the others.  Felix had fallen asleep, but Chan was still holding him, pressing his head against his chest and rocking him gently.  Minho didn’t seem to be crying anymore, but his cheeks were tear stained and his eyes were red.  Seungmin’s wails had calmed, but he was still crying, seemingly attempting to reread the letter, holding it so gently in his hands.  Like maybe, it was the last thing from Jeongin they would ever hear.  Maybe it was.  

 

     Changbin pushed that thought from his mind.  He didn’t want to think about that.  

 

     Jeongin was in good hands.  He would be okay.  At least, that’s what he hoped. 

 

* * *

 

 

     Seungmin couldn’t finish the letter the first time he tried to read it.  He wasn’t even able to make it past the first sentence before he was crying.  By the end of the first paragraph, he had to stop.  He couldn’t keep going. 

 

     Instead, he dropped to the floor and hugged it close to his chest, and wailed because that’s all he could think to do.  Emotions were hitting him left and right, smacking him across the face and kicking him in the stomach.  Realization was screaming at him but it was all to late.  They had all come to late. 

 

     He wished they would’ve decided to come sooner.  Even if they hurt, even one day sooner would’ve been better.  

 

       After what seemed like hours, he managed to calm down his wail to a quiet weep instead and attempted to read the letter once more.  

 

_Dear Seungmin,_

 

_Hyung, do you think I’m a burden?  Cause I think I am.  You and everyone always tell me that it’s okay to ask for help all the time because I’m the maknae, I’m still young and learning, but you’re only a few months older than me and you never ask for help.  You’ve even taken on the job of a host and yet you’re still keeping up, flying high even, while I can barely keep my head above water._

 

_It looks like, now that I’m gone, that you’ll be the maknae now.  I always thought that that role would suite you better.  You’re cuter than I am, and way more likable.  You have so many talents while and charms that the fans love.  You have an amazing voice while I can barely stay on pitch half the time.  You are so much better than me hyung.  You all are._

 

_I think you’ll like being the maknae.  It’s not really all that different, people are just more . . . affectionate with you and they don’t mind as much when you’re bratty.  They were always like that  with me, but I think it’ll be more natural with you._

 

_I hope you’re happier now that I’m gone.  I think you will.  Just forget about me and keep on living.  Keep flying.  I know you can, and I know you will._

 

_Thank you hyung, and don’t blame yourself for this.  I was never meant to be here.  That’s not your fault.  It’s mine.  It’s mine because I tried to force myself into a place I didn’t belong._

 

_I love you hyung.  Bye.  I hope you fly higher than I ever could._

 

**No, Jeonginnie, no.  Why would you ever think that about yourself?  You’re anything but a burden.  We need you here.  We need you to be ‘Stray Kids’.  It’s nine or never right?  What are we going to do without you here.  We can’t get by without you.  You’re our friend, our little brother.  We should’ve seen that you weren’t okay.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I didn’t see you were hurting.  Please don’t leave.  We can’t make it without you.**

 

       He was crying again, and it made him feel weak, like a child.  Jeongin had never cried and he was hurting so much.  He never shed a tear, not in front of them at least.  

 

     And here he was, sobbing over the letter that may be the last thing he’d ever hear from Jeongin.  No matter how much he tried to hold back the tears, that thought made him cry even harder.  He cradled the letter close to his chest, gently as one would hold a baby.  He rocked back and forth sobbing, his throat hurting but he just kept on sobbing because that was all he could do. 

 

      He had failed Jeongin.  He’d ignored his suffering and how he couldn’t help him, so crying was all he could do.  

 

* * *

 

    “Sir, are you the one who called for the young man who was brought in earlier?” a doctor asked as he walked in.    
 ****

 

     Hyunjin and Woojin had returned after what seemed like hours away.  Minho had discreetly handed him his letter, as well as giving Chan his.  Woojin had gone to the opposite corner of the room to read it, not shedding a tear but looking about ready to punch something, or maybe himself.  Chan had put his in his pocket, presumably waiting to read it once things had calmed down.  Jisung still refused to read his, no matter how curious he was as to what Jeongin had wanted to tell him.  Chan had called the company to explain the situation, and the company was already making a point of canceling schedules and calling Jeongin’s family.  

 

     Chan stood up as soon as the doctor walked in.  “No but our friend did.  He’s sleeping right now.  Can you tell us anything?”

 

       “Are you family?” The doctor, and older man, asked, looking tired and wary.  

 

      “No, but we’re close enough,” Chan said, somewhat snappy, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.  “I mean, his family should be fine with you telling us.  I can contact them to make sure if you’d like, but they can’t be here for awhile.  They’re from Busan.”

 

     The doctor sighed.  “Before I can tell you anything, would it be okay if I asked you a few questions.”

 

     Chan nodded.  “Yes that’s fine doctor . . .”

 

     “Kang,” the man provided helpfully.  “Why don’t we sit down first?”

 

     Chan nodded again, almost frantically sitting back down in his seat as the doctor came to sit across from them.  Everyone else seemed to be interested, but unwilling to speak, or just to scared to even moved.  

 

     “First off, what is the patient’s name?”

 

     “Jeongin.”

 

     “Has he ever attempted suicide before this?”

 

     “No.”

 

     “Has he ever exhibited any sort of suicidal behavior openly before?”

 

      “No.”

 

      “No?  Are you sure?”

 

     “Yes I’m sure.”

 

     “Did he ever act oddly, or differently than usual?  Or did he ever say things that didn’t really seem like him?”

 

     “Yes?”

 

      “What kind of things did he do?”

 

      “He would . . . He would stay and work late and he was always saying that he needed to get better.  He started isolating himself too.”

 

     “Did he ever start spending time with people or objects that didn’t seem normal or right.”

 

      “I’m not s-“

 

      “Yes,” Changbin butted in.  “There was a notebook, but he never let anyone read it.”

 

     “Does he have any past troubles with depression or anxiety.”

 

      “No, not that I’m aware of.”

 

      Dr. Kang scribbled some things down before looking back up at him.  “That’s all the questions that I have for now, but I’m sure you have some questions of your own.”

 

      “Yes, how is he?” Chan asked, almost too quickly.  

 

       Dr. Kang sighed before looking at him with sad eyes.  “It’s hard to tell at the moment. I can’t guarantee that he’ll make it if I’m being honest.  He lost a lot of blood and the pills he took did major damage to his liver.  We pumped his stomach as soon as we managed to stop the bleeding, but at that point they’d already done almost all they could.  He flatlined a few times, but we’ve managed to bring him back each time so far.”

 

      Chan took a shaky breath.  “I-Is there anything else we should know?”

 

      The doctor looked hesitant to answer.  Perhaps it was the fact that Chan looked almost as tired as he felt or the fact that Jisung was crying somewhere behind him but he did in the end.  “Yes, there is.  We checked other areas for signs of self-harm and we found scars on his thighs and hips.  Some of them look to be a few months old and some are recent.  He also shows signs of having an eating disorder such as anorexia of bulimia, or possibly both.  He’s extremely underweight and malnourished.  He’s only a little over 42 kilos.  We’re administering nutrients through and IV but it’ll only do so much.  You can’t see him at the moment”  

 

      Chan looked down at the floor, shaking.  Why hadn’t he ever just got with his instinct.  If he had then Jeongin would be okay.  “Th-thank you doctor.  P-please if an-anything happens . . .”

 

      Dr. Kang looked at him with pity.  “I’ll let you know as soon as anything changes.  Thank you for your compliance.”

 

     “Y-yes of course.”  Chan continued to look down at the ground, guilty.  He only looked up once the doctor left the room.  

 

      He looked around the room and felt his heart break into another million pieces, even though he was sure it had already broken into dust.  Changbin was cradling Felix’s sleeping form close, comforting the boy who was surely traumatized.  Hyunjin refused to talk to anyone and as soon as he’d gotten back, he’d sat in a chair along the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest.  Woojin had looked like a mass of anger and guilt waiting to explode since the moment he first read his letter, which he continued to read over and over and over again like it was an obsession.  Jisung had abandoned his own letter in his chair as he went and attempted to comfort the inconsolable Seungmin, who had been crying for almost two hours straight, and seemed about ready to pass out.  Minho hadn’t said a word, but he’d taken his own letter and but it away ever so gently, making sure not a corner was bent. 

 

      None of them were taking it well and he wasn’t sure what he expected them to be like.  Perhaps he expected them to deal with things as a group, as a family, like they always had, but the thing was, they weren’t all there.  They were missing someone.  How were they supposed to deal with things as a group, when they all weren’t there, and maybe that was the reason he felt so empty, or maybe it was the guilt slowly eating away at his soul.  

 

     Maybe, it was both.  

 

* * *

 

    “You all should go home,” their manager, Chunso, said.  “It’s getting late and you all look exhausted.  Visiting hours are over and if anything happens, you won’t even be able to see him anyway.”

 

     The protests started immediately, but Chan has expected that.  

 

      “Please,” Chunso almost begged.  They man looked exhausted himself.  He’d been dealing with the company all day and trying to figure out what should they tell people.  They’d already made a statement that all of their scheduled events were cancelled and that the group would be going on hiatus for an indefinite amount of time but fans were obviously going ask questions, especially since there was no explanation as to why everyone was suddenly being stopped.  “I’ll stay here and I will call you as soon as we know anything, but you all need rest.”

 

     “I’m not leaving him!”  Hyunjin shouted angrily.  “I already left him alone before and look what happened I’m not going t-“

 

      “Hyunjin!” Chan said firmly.  It was time for him to step up as leader, even though he felt like he’d already failed.  “I don’t want to hear it.  It’s been a long day and we all need to sleep.”  He knew that none of them would be able to sleep that night.  “We can’t do anything here except tire ourselves out.”  They all looked so exhausted.  “We’re not going to make ourselves sick from exhaustion.  If anything happens, Chunso can just call us and we can come back here but right now we all just need to try and rest.”

 

      Everyone was silent for a few moments.  The serious side of Chan didn’t come out often.  

 

      “I’m not going back there.”

 

      “Felix please don-“

 

      “I don’t have to stay here, but I’m not going back there.  I’m not going back to the dorm.”

 

      “What?”

 

      “I don’t care where I stay, I could sleep on the company floor for all I care, but I’m not going back to where he-“  Felix choked on tears, silently falling down his face.  

 

    Chan didn’t know what to do, so he looked pleadingly over at Chunso, a plea for help.  The older man sighed deeply, understanding the situation.  Chan had explained everything he knew as soon as he’d gotten there.  “I’ll make arrangements for you at a hotel nearby, but I don’t want you alone.  Chan, I want you at the dorms with everyone else and . . .” Chunso looked around the room, seeming to search for the most emotionally stable.  “Minho, you go with Felix.”

 

     Minho agreed with a weak nod.

 

     “Thank you,” Felix said, his voice quiet a meek.  

 

     Chunso just nodded.  “A car is waiting outside for you.  If you all need anything, don’t be afraid to contact me, or one of your other managers.  We’re all here for you, okay?”

 

      They all nodded, the only one managing to mumble a quiet thank you being Woojin.  

 

      Chan lead them out with a heavy heart and lead feet.  He hadn’t said so, but he’d been just as reluctant to leave as the rest of them.  

 

     He knew that, while they were gone, Jeongin could leave them before they got a chance to say goodbye. 

 

* * *

 

     Chan’s phone chimed next to him and he didn’t hesitate to answer.  He prayed that it was a text from Chunso, telling them that everything was okay, but he was disappointed.  

 

      **Message from BamBam:**

 

_Hey man, is everything okay?_

 

     He didn’t feel like answering.  Ever since he’d gotten home and seen the state of the bathroom, he hadn’t really felt like doing anything.  Hyunjin had thrown up.  He almost did.  He’d really wanted to.  Thankfully, Changbin had volunteered to clean it because he didn’t think he could.  

 

     **Message to BamBam:**

 

_Why’re you asking?_

 

**Message from BamBam:**

 

_Dude, haven’t you seen all the articles and stuff?  And the company’s going crazy, I swear.  One minute we were practicing and the next we were being sent home and everyone was running around and freaking out.  All of your events and stuff are cancelled too.  What’s going on man, cause they aren’t telling us anything?_

 

Chan felt his stomach drop.  

 

      **Message to BamBam:**

 

    _What articles?_

 

**Message from BamBam:**

 

_Wait?!  You seriously haven’t seen them?  Give me a second and I’ll send you the links._

 

Seconds later, he received another message from BamBam.  There were a few links, mostly to media and news outlet.  He only hesitated for a moment before he shakily clicked on the first one.  

 

     **Stray Kids’ Hyunjin Seen Crying on the Streets**

 

That was the first article that greeted him.  Just below the heading, there was a picture of Hyunjin leaning against a brick building.  It was a little grainy, but he knew it was Hyunjin.  There was no doubt.  He didn’t bother taking the time to actually read the full article, but he got bits and pieces as well as another picture, this time with Woojin comforting Hyunjin.  

 

      He went to the next article.  

 

     **Stray Kids Spotted at Hospital**

 

This time there was a picture of all of them except for Felix and Jeongin.  They were walking into the hospital, and even in the grainy photo he could see his own worried face.  

 

     **All Stray Kids’ schedules and events suddenly canceled without explanation**

 

There was a photo of the announcement that JYP had made on twitter.  All it said was, “ _All of Stray Kids’ upcoming events and schedules have been cancelled.  We are sorry for the inconvenience and will give and update on the situation soon.  Thank you.”_

 

It was a crappy explanation to say the least, but what were any of them to do about it.  The company probably wasn’t sure what to announce.  They still didn’t know anything on Jeongin, so what was the point.

 

     He went back to his messages and clicked on they type bar.  He didn’t hesitate to type out what he wanted to say.  He felt selfish, but he needed the comfort.  He needed to get everything off his chest and he needed to tell someone something because he felt like he would explode if he didn’t.

 

     **Message to BamBam:**

 

_Jeongin tried to commit suicide today.  He might not make it.  I didn’t even think he was struggling or anything and now he might die, and I don’t know what to do.  Everyone’s freaking out and I feel like we’re falling apart.  Felix won’t even come back to the dorm and every time Hyunjin says something, he’s angry.  Seungmin’s been crying for hours and Woojin won’t talk to any of us.  I feel like I’m failing as a leader.  Is this my fault?  Am I really such a bad leader?_

 

There wasn’t a reply immediately.  Actually was fairly sure that at least a few minutes had passed before he actually got a response.  

 

     **Message from BamBam:**

 

_You aren’t a failure.  This is not your fault.  Don’t blame yourself for this.  I know that’s what you want to do, because that’s what’s easy.  It’s easy to blame yourself and say that’s what’s going on, but trust me, when someone wants something to be a secret, and I mean really wants it to, they’ll go to great lengths to hide it.  If Jeongin really didn’t want you all to see that he was struggling, then he would’ve made sure you didn’t.  What’s going to be hard, is finding out why he was hiding his struggles, and, trust me, that’s going to be anything but easy because if he wanted you all to know, then he would’ve told you.  You’ll just have to keep trying and if he refuses to tell you then try again._

 

**Message to BamBam:**

 

_But what if he doesn’t trust us?  He must not’ve before because he didn’t tell us he was struggling.  What am I supposed to do then?_

 

**Message from BamBam:**

 

_Let me tell you something, trust and love are two different things.  He may not trust you, not fully at least, but that kid loves you and everyone else in that group.  I can see it in the way he acts around you.  He loves you a lot and I know you love him just as much.  He may not trust you, but love is a start.  Build from that.  Let that love lead to trust.  That’s what you do.  You show him that you love him and you trust him as much as you want him to trust you.  Open up to him, don’t let him feel alone, like he’s the only one feeling what he’s feeling because in this industry, we all feel like giving up sometimes.  I know you’ve probably felt that way once or twice, maybe you’re feeling it now, and everyone it GOT7 including myself have.  Don’t hide that from him.  Don’t try and protect him from that kind of stuff because he’s already lived it and he’ll understand and you might understand him better to._

 

Chan read the message around three times, and, if he was being honest, he felt like that it was all he needed to hear.  The guilt was still there, but it had lessened.  He still blamed himself, he knew that part of it was his fault, but he felt the burden lighten ever so slightly.  

 

     He turned his head to look at his bedside table.  His letter lay there, looking so innocent.  It was just a letter after all, but he knew that the letter alone was enough to shatter him.  He knew that it could ruin him, but he knew he needed to read it.  

 

     If not for himself then for Jeongin.  Jeongin wanted to tell him something.  Something important.  Something that he couldn’t bring himself to say if he was alive so he wrote on a piece of paper and tried to bring about his own death.  

 

      Chan didn’t think he had ever been so desperate to say anything in his life and he guessed that Jeongin just had too much to say, but not enough courage.  

 

      He picked up the letter and turned it over in his hands a few times.  He looked over it for awhile before he mustered up the courage to slide his thumb under the seal.  

 

     He felt like it would destroy him, but he couldn’t let Jeongin’s voice go unheard.  Not again.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, not much symbolism in this chapter. I wanted to focus on the emotions rather than the symbolism, but I will get back into it later on. There is some symbolism or, maybe allusion, I'm not really sure what to call it. I don't think it's symbolism, but I took inspiration from Langston Hughes poem "A Dream Deferred" in Hyunjin's section of the chapter at the beginning. It isn't really important i guess, but I really just like the poem and decided to use some elements from it. 
> 
> That's all I've got for now. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next chapter Deadline: January 2, 2019  
>  Next Likely Update: January 1, 2019


	10. Emotions (Sometimes, they're just too much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all just falling apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . Happy new year . . . . ???
> 
> So, some parts of this chapter I really like, and other parts, I really don't. There isn't any symbolism in this chapter, but I will be getting back into it at some point. 
> 
> I think that's all for now! I hope you like this chapter!

_Dear Chan,_

 

_I always looked up to you hyung.  I never understood how you could do it.  Take care of all of us and still manage to improve yourself and write and produce music.  You’re always up so late, working on a new song or something and you still manage to keep us all in line._

 

_Thanks for that.  I’m not sure if I ever got to tell you that, but thank you for all that you do for us.  I can’t tell you that enough._

 

_I thought about telling you once.  About how much it hurts.  How much I don’t wanna wake up every time I fall asleep, but then I remembered how much you have to do already.  You don’t need me to bother with too._

 

_As I’m writing this, I’m kind of hoping that I’ll feel some sort of regret, or maybe second guess myself.  I don’t want to leave you all, but the truth is, I don’t.  I feel happy, euphoric even, just thinking that I won’t have to wake up again.  I just don’t want to be here anymore.  I don’t think I can stand it.  Another day living this life is like another day in hell.  I don’t want to live anymore._

 

_I’m sorry.  I’m sorry that I’m a failure.  I’m so sorry that I wasn’t strong enough, or good enough to keep up with all of you.  You’re amazing hyung.  You know that right._

 

_I know that you feel responsible for us, you say it all the time, but this isn’t your fault.  Don’t blame yourself.  Don’t let anyone else either.  This isn’t anyone’s fault but my own.  I never should’ve tried to be something I’m not._

 

_Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for what you do for this group.  I love you hyung.  I love you so much.  Thank you for being such a great leader._

 

_Goodbye._

 

Chan punched the wall so hard he saw it crack.  His hand started to hurt almost immediately, but he didn’t care.  The letter was scrunched up in his opposite hand.  

 

      Jeongin had wanted to tell him.  He’d wanted to talk to him, but he hadn’t, because he was too busy.  All because he was too busy.  He spent too much time at the studio or just working and he didn’t make time for his group mates.  He didn’t make sure they were okay and he never asked them if there was anything wrong.  

 

      And yet, Jeongin still believed he was a great leader.  

 

      He couldn’t wrap his mind around that.  

 

     Even though he was hurting so much, Jeongin didn’t blame him, or any of them for not noticing.  Maybe it was because he didn’t want them to notice, but he didn’t blame them for not being something that had probably been festering since before the survival show.  

 

       Chan felt the guilt coming back.  No matter what BamBam told him, he couldn’t stop it.  It was like a wave, a tsunami crashing over him.  Crushing him under the force.  Killing him.  Like water filling his lungs, choking him.  And he’s drowning in it.  He feels like he’s drowning and it’s all because he didn’t notice.  

 

     All because of him.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Felix didn’t even try to sleep.  

 

     He knew that Minho was still awake, but he was pretending to sleep.  He was probably lost somewhere in his own mind, thinking about nothing.  

 

      Felix wished that he could zone out like that.  Just clear his mind and forget for a little bit, but he wasn’t like that.  His mind was always jittery, thinking about every little thing, every little detail from his day.  Reliving it all like watching some horror movie over and over again.  

 

     He hated horror movies.  

 

     He looked back at his palms.  He’d cleaned them up a bit, but there were still marks on them from where he’d dug his nails into them.  His mind wondered back to that moment.  Sitting in the ambulance, Jeongin dying right in front of him.  He remembered that pain.  

 

     It had helped.  

 

      He wondered if it would do it again.

 

      Experimentally, he placed his nails back over the cuts and pushed.  It stung, but he’d expected it to.  What he hadn’t really expected was the rush of relief.  A moment that made him forget everything from that day.  A moment where all that existed was the pain. 

 

     So he did it again.  

 

      This time, he pushed harder, and kept it there longer and the relief came again.  

 

      And it wasn’t long before his hands were bleeding again.  

 

      And it hurt.  

 

     But it helped.  

 

      And he realized that, this is what Jeongin must’ve felt like.  This is why he’d hurt himself.  This is the relief he felt. 

 

      And that scared him.  

 

     And it scared him when he felt himself grow tired and actually felt like he could sleep.  It scared him how at ease he was.  How just simply hurting himself made all his pain go away.  It scared him so much, but he didn’t stop.  

 

     And when he finally did, he decided to sleep, because he wasn’t worried anymore.  The thoughts were gone.  His mind was blank and he was tired. 

 

      He fell asleep within minutes. 

 

      Maybe he would try that again.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Jisung couldn’t stop staring at the letter.  He wanted to read it.  He wanted to see what was inside.  He wanted to hear what Jeongin had to say, but he just couldn’t.  He didn’t want to read it because he felt that he didn’t deserve to.  

 

     Apparently he’d never cared enough to make sure Jeongin was okay before so why should he now?  Why should he listen now that it was too late?  Now that he couldn’t help. 

 

      He was leaned up against his bed post, looking down at it.  

 

      He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.  Whether he read it or not, his mind was distracted to sleep.  He didn’t even want to bother with trying, so he just sat there, staring.

 

     Maybe hours passed when he finally moved, maybe it was minutes.  He didn’t know.  Everything felt blurry, like he wasn’t actually there.  

 

     He wasn’t thinking when he slipped on his shoes, or perhaps he was.  It was hard to tell.  

 

     His steps down the streets of Seoul were oddly floaty.  His body felt overly light, like he would float away.  Like everything that once held him to earth would just let him go and he’d fly away.  Maybe, he would fly to where Jeongin was.  Maybe he would get to see him and ask him what was in the letter.  

 

     He felt like he’d lost control of his legs, but they were still moving, taking him down the street, around corners, and through alleyways.  He was vaguely aware that he probably shouldn’t be out so late, but that really didn’t matter to him.  He just let his legs go where they wanted.  

 

      They were just wandering, and he realized he was near the hospital.  Is that where is legs were taking him?  To see Jeongin?  Perhaps, but then, when he reached the hospital, he just kept walking.  

 

      Maybe his legs didn’t have a destination in mind.  Maybe they were just going.  Maybe they just wanted to get away.  Away from it all.

 

      He wasn’t sure how long had passed before he finally stopped.  The moon was high up in the sky, far above his head so he guessed it was around midnight.  The streets of seoul were still busy, cars passing by him only feet away on the road.  

 

      His mind told him that he was only feet away from death.  His legs took him one step closer to the road.  

 

      He couldn’t help Jeongin.  It was his own fault that Jeongin was gone now, but maybe he could be with him again.

 

      He took another step closer.  

 

     He could see him.  Apologize.  Tell him that he was wrong.  It would just take a few more steps.  

 

     A car whizzed by.  

 

     Just a few more steps and he could see Jeongin again.  

 

* * *

 

     Woojin couldn’t stop rereading it.  Over and over again.  Letting the words sink in.  

 

      Anger bubbled beneath his skin.  He clutched it tightly and it crumpled in his grip.  He shook violently, resisting the urge to punch something.  Instead, he gripped his hair with his free hand and pulled it taught.  

 

     He was furious, but not at Jeongin, not at any of his group mates, but himself.  

 

      He was the oldest.  He was supposed to look out for the rest of the members.  He was supposed to protect them.  He was supposed keep them safe and happy.  

 

      He’d done none of that.  

 

      No matter how many times he read the letter, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.  How he hadn’t seen anything with Jeongin had clearly been struggling.  He had been struggling for months now.  

 

       He’d said so.  It was right there, written out for him to see.  

 

      He read it again.  

 

      

       _Dear Woojin,_

 

_Hey, hyung.  I remember, not long after Felix was eliminated, you told Chan that it was okay not to be okay.  I don’t think I’m okay now, but I don’t think it’s okay._

 

_It’s been hard for a long time now.  I think it started a little before the survival show, I’m not really sure.  It feels like that was years ago now._

 

_You know you really are amazing right hyung.  I’ve always admired you.  You’re always so kind and even when you’re hurting you put other people first.  You’re humble despite having the most amazing voice I’ve ever heard.  I wish I was like you, but I’m not._

 

_I’m selfish, I’ve always been, but not anymore.  I know I don’t belong here, I know I bring you and everyone else down.  That’s why I’m leaving now.  Trust me, it’s for the best._

 

_It’s not your fault.  Never tell yourself that.  This is because I pretended I was worth something when I’m really not._

 

_I love you a lot, you know that right.  I know you love a lot too.  Make sure to never stop loving, that was all it took for me to question this, but I know it’s time for me to go.  It’s been time for awhile now._

 

_I should go now.  I love you.  Goodbye hyung._

 

His instinct had always told him that something was wrong.  He never felt like Jeongin was being sincere about his feelings and he’d been right.  He’d been oh so right but he’d never acted on his instinct, even when it was so strong he would’ve bet money that it was right. 

 

      He was a failure of a hyung, and nothing could make him think otherwise.  

 

* * *

 

 

      Jae walked around the company building.  he was supposed to be home, but he’d left his phone and been forced to come back and search for it.  It was chaos there, with people, mostly higher ups, walking in and out of offices and regular staff whispering amongst each other.  

 

     He wondered what happened.  He was sure it had something to do with Stray Kids, the articles were everywhere, but it seemed that, whatever it was, the company was trying to keep it secret.  He tried not to let it bother him too much, they were a whole other group and they barely even got to see each other because the schedules were so busy, but worry still lingered in the back of his mind.  They only debuted less a year before, if anything too bad happened there was a good chance they wouldn’t be able to recover from it.  

 

     He tried to push the thought from his mind as he stepped out of the company building, but just as he did, he saw  familiar face walk by.  “Jisung-ssi?” 

 

     Jisung ignored him, actually, he didn’t even seem to hear him, and kept walking.  It was more of a stumble actually.  His steps were obviously heavy and he seemed to be tripping over air every so often.  

 

      Jae tried to tell himself that he shouldn’t concern himself with it, it wasn’t his group after all, but it didn’t help.  

 

      He reasoned that his dorm was in the same direction as Jisung was heading, though it was the longer path, and that he had no choice but to follow him.  He never managed to convince himself that it was the only reason but it was okay.  

 

      He tried to get Jisung’s attention several more times, but he never seemed to acknowledge them.  It was like he was wearing earplugs and couldn’t hear him shouting his name.

 

      The boy just kept on walking.  

 

      Jisung turned down another road.  Jae would normally go straight from that point, but he found himself turning as well.  Confusion, worry, and something that felt like sick curiosity kept him moving.  Following.  Some would even call it stalking, watching the boys every move.  

 

      He seemed to have no destination in mind, content to just keep walking forever.  Jae wondered when or if he would stop, just when he finally did.  

 

      Jisung stood in the middle of the wide sidewalk, looking towards the road.  He stared for a long time before taking one step towards it, but then paused again.  

 

     Jae held his breath, confused and honestly a little afraid, but sick curiosity kept him watching rather than acting.  To see how the situation played out rather than acting.  Like how a child would watch a hungry coyote approach an innocent mouse, not trying to warn or cry out because pure innocence and curiosity kept it from realizing that the mouse would be completely devoured and torn apart by the coyote.

 

      Jisung stood in the same place for awhile before taking another step forward.  Pause.  Then another and another after that.  Pause.  Only feet away from the road.  It would take less than five steps to get to it.  Cars zoomed by.  Another step.  

 

     Jae’s senses came back to him just Jisung started to take the final steps.  He didn’t need to see how it played out.  He knew. 

 

      Just as Jisung’s foot hovered off the sidewalk, Jae grabbed his arm, pulling him back away from the road.  He dragged him to the opposite side of the sidewalk, getting odd looks from people as they passed by.  Once he stopped, Jisung stumbled into him and he instinctively wrapped his arms around him.  

 

     Memories flashed of being held in a similar manner, and memories of holding other’s the same.  Protecting.  Comforting.  Teasing.  Whatever the reason, he found himself in a similar  position on occasion.  The one time he’d been homesick and Sungjin had held him close and told him it was okay.  The time Dowoon had been upset about not being able to sing the note correctly during vocal lessons, even though he worked so hard.  When Younghyun was frustrated about a song he was writing.  Like when Wonpil was feeling insecure about his 4D personality.  When Sungjin had been unsure about his position as leader. 

 

     He knew when people needed to be held, and right now, Jisung needed that.  He needed comfort and even if he didn’t know him well, he was going to do his best.  He was, at the very least, going to make sure that he didn’t do something that could change his life forever, or end it all together. 

 

     Jae held him close, not saying anything for at least ten minutes.  He was surprised that Jisung made no move to pull away, or no movement at all.  Like he was a rag doll to be manipulated.  Like of someone were to hold a gun to his back, he wouldn’t even bother to fight. 

   

     Eventually, Jae tentatively pulled away, being cautious with every movement.   

 

       “Jisung-ssi?  Can you hear me?” he tried again, not expecting a response.  

 

     Though, to his surprise, Jisung nodded, but only slightly.  His head was turned towards him, but his eyes were looking somewhere else.  Off to the side, at the road.  He seemed like he was almost far away, even though he was right in front of him.  

 

      “What are you doing out so late?” 

 

      Jisung didn’t respond this time.  He was quiet.  Still staring at the road.  

 

     “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

     Silence.  Cars whizzed by.  

 

     “Does this have something to do with your group?  Did something happen?”

 

      Jisung didn’t answer, but his eyes flickered towards him, before they went back to the road.  A quiet tear slipped down his cheek.  

 

     “Why did you try to go out onto the road?”

 

     “Because I wanted to see him again.  Needed to apologize.”  Jisung’s eyes turned back towards him.  They were turning red, and droopy with sadness.  

 

      “See who again?  Apologize to who?”  Jae prayed he wouldn’t be ignored again.  

 

      “Jeongin.”

 

      “Where is he?”

 

      “Not here.”

 

      “What happened to him?”  

 

      “I killed him.”

 

      “You killed him?”

 

      “I didn’t help him, and now he’s dead.  I didn’t see he was hurting and he wanted to stop hurting.  He’s not hurting anymore though.”

 

      It clicked.  Jeongin killed himself.  Jisung was blaming himself.  He wanted to die.  He wanted to die just so he could apologize.  

 

     Jae resisted the urge to say ‘Not another one’ as gruesome and cruel as it sounded.  So many people weren’t able to take the stress of the industry.  Jeongin was so young.  Their career had just started, and everything must’ve been too much.  

 

     “You know that’s not your fault right?”

 

     “But it is.  I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother to ask what it was.”

 

     Jae tightened his lips, looking for the right words to say.  “That’s just how we work sometimes ya know?” he tried.  Jisung looked at him blankly.  “Humans, we aren’t perfect.  We make mistakes and sometimes our emotions can keep us from doing things we should, or makes us do things we shouldn’t.  Maybe you saw that something wasn’t right, but your emotions kept you from asking because they thought that that was best for you and for your well-being.  As much as we can hate them sometimes, our emotions are completely natural, and they’re there to protect us, as crazy as that might sound right now.”

 

      “Then why did he do it?  Why did he go and kill himself if his emotions are trying to protect him.”

 

      Jae paused for a moment, then spoke.  “Because sometimes . . . sometimes, people can feel emotions too strongly.  Like fear.  It’s natural to be afraid of a bear or a lion so that if we encounter one, that fear is warning us to avoid it, but other people feel fear too strongly and freeze up.  Then they become a victim of fear.  Jeongin, he was probably feeling too strongly.  And I’m not sure if that’s it, but maybe he was just overwhelmed.  Maybe his emotions or his thoughts were too much.”

 

      Jisung looked at him dead in the eye, and for  moment Jae forgot how to breath because the boy’s eyes were just so heavy.  Dripping with sadness and heartache so suffocating that he was surprise that Jisung was able to breath at all.  “Is that why I feel like dying now too?” 

 

      Had Jae known the boy better, he would’ve pulled him back into his embrace, let him cry, and maybe cry with him.  He know he would do the same if anyone in his group was in the same situation.  But the fact of the matter was that he didn’t know Jisung.  He knew his name, and he knew a few things about him from some short conversations they had in passing, but other than that, they were complete strangers.  He didn’t know what he liked or disliked, his hobbies, his passions, his personality, or his thoughts.  He couldn’t answer, they boy’s question.  At least not fully, but he could try.  Would try.  He couldn’t see another one leave so soon.  

 

       “Maybe it is, but maybe it’s not.  That’s not a question that I can answer for you.  I think it’s one you need to think about and try to answer for yourself, but never think you have to be alone to figure it out.  Other people can’t answer it for you, but they can help you find it.  Whether it be me, or one of your hyungs, or even one of your dongsaengs, trust me on that last one, they give better advice than you would think.”

 

      And to Jae’s surprise, he got the faintest flicker of a smile at his feeble attempt at a joke and that was all he needed to keep going.

 

     “And whether this is just a response to the situation, which would be completely understandable, or part of an underlaying problem that maybe you didn’t realize was there, you don’t need to be alone.  Never be afraid to ask for help from anyone.  They’ll all be willing to help.  If it’s a parent, cousin, sibling, group member, another sunbeamnim - Hell - even JYP, they’ll all be willing to help.”

 

     There it was again.  A slight upturn at the corners of the lips.  Something done without thought.  The brain telling the muscles to react to something it saw as funny or joyful, even in such a dark time.  

 

     “Thank you,” It was quiet, just above a whisper, but it was the most genuine thank you he thought he’d ever received.  

 

     “Why don’t we take you back to your dorm m’kay?” 

 

     “Okay,” another whisper, but it was a response and that was more than he could’ve hoped for.  

 

     Gently, cautiously, he slipped an arm around the boy’s shoulder as they walked.  He leaned into him, probably searching for comfort.  Jae would do his best to give that comfort.  

 

     “I’m not quite sure where your dorm is so you might have to help me out.  It’s near the trainee dorms though, right?”  He got a nod this time.

 

       “Okay.  Let’s get you back home.”

 

* * *

 

 

      Minho felt empty.  His mind was completely blank.  His lungs felt like they were unable to hold air.  He’d thrown up after Felix had fallen asleep.  He felt light, hollow, empty, empty, empty . . .

 

      He hated feeling empty.

 

      He always danced when he felt like his mind was too blank.  When he wanted to destroy himself just to feel something.  It gave him something to focus on, think about, and even if it took awhile for the feeling to go away, it always did.    

 

     But he couldn’t leave to dance now.  He couldn’t leave Felix by himself.  Not after what he’d just seen and been through.  Not while he was so fragile.  Not after he’d already left Jeongin.  

 

     His responsibilities as a hyung were more important than his own wants or needs. 

 

      But now, his mind felt so barren that he wondered if he’d ever had thoughts at all. 

 

      He wanted to feel something, anything.  He tried to think about things that made him happy, thoughts, useless thoughts to fill his head.  That TV show he used to like when he was a kid.  The time he and his friends broke into an abandoned factory.  His first time he danced on stage.  Those thoughts spiraled, following his story as he’d lived it.  

 

     His JYP audition, the place where he’d met Changbin for the first time.  The restaurant his parents had taken him to to celebrate when he’d passed.  His first day at the company as an official trainee.  Staying till morning in the practice room dancing.  Feeling empty.  Thinking of destroying himself. Then meeting Chan.  Then the rest of the group, who only consisted of Chan, Changbin, Jisung, and himself at the time.  Then asking Woojin and Hyunjin to join.  Still feeling empty, but his heart slowly filling with love, so much love.  Meeting Jeongin for the first time, a sweet little boy who worked harder than almost every other kid his age at the agency.  Asking him to join, along with Seungmin.  Finally, meeting Felix and asking him to join too.  Then they were swept into the survival show.  Being scared but feeling full.  Then being eliminated and feeling more empty than ever and dancing until he couldn’t even move anymore.  Then being brought back and debuting as nine and feeling fuller than ever.  Their debut, a great success, and preparing for a second comeback almost immediately after the first.  Feeling so full that he thought he would explode at the first stage of their second comeback.  And now, possibly losing Jeongin, a light in his life, and feeling empty again.  Reading that letter, god, that letter.  His heart shattering in his chest.  

 

 

    It was the only thing still stuck in his head, like someone had cut open his brain and shoved it in there.  

 

     For once, he wished his head was completely empty if that was all he could think about.  He tried to for get, even though he could recite every word.  

 

      _Dear Minho,_

 

**No.  Go away, please.**

 

_It feels like we never got the chance to talk._

 

**Stop.  Just let me be empty.**

 

_I mean, we talked all the time, but when was it ever about anything that ever mattered.  When was the last time we talked about something besides schedules, comebacks, songs, or just joking._

 

**I don’t want to think about this.**

 

_It makes me kind of sad._

 

**Leave me alone.**

 

_We never really got the chance to know each other.  I mean, I know a lot about you, but I don’t know about your thoughts, feelings, or maybe even your dreams._

 

**Stop.  I don’t like this.**

 

_I mean, I wouldn’t want anyone to know about mine.  I think you would hate me as much as I hate myself if you did._

 

**Please, stop.**

 

_They aren’t happy._

 

**Stop torturing me.**

 

_Do you ever think of destroying yourself, hyung?_

 

**Yes!  Please don’t make me want to do it more.**

 

_I think about it a lot._

 

**I do too!  Are you happy?  Are you happy that I wanna destroy myself right now?**

 

_I do it a lot._

 

**LEAVE ME ALONE!**

 

_I don’t think it’s a bad thing though.  I deserve.  I’m so horrible.  I’m a burden.  I’m so worthless._

 

**I AM TOO!  I AM TOO!  NOW PLEASE JUST LEAVE!**

 

_I should’ve been eliminated during the survival show.  Not you.  You didn’t deserve that.  You’re so amazing hyung._

 

**I AM NOT!  I DIDN’T SAVE YOU!  STOP!  LEAVE!  PLEASE!**

 

_Don’t blame yourself please.  You deserve everything.  I deserve nothing.  Don’t blame yourself for that.  I don’t want that._

 

**BUT I WANT THAT!  IT IS MY FAULT!  I DIDN’T HELP YOU WHEN I AM THE SAME AS YOU! GO AWAY!  GO AWAY!  GO AWAY! GO-**

 

_I love you._

 

**NO!  DON’T LOVE ME!  HATE ME!  HATE ME AS MUCH AS YOU HATE YOURSELF!  HATE ME AS MUCH AS I HATE MYSELF!  HATE ME MORE!  STOP!  STOP!  STOP! ST-**

 

_Bye hyung.  I’m sorry we never got to talk more._

 

**YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO SAY GOODBYE!  DON’T SAY GOODBYE!  WE HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED YET!  YOU WANT TO TALK!  I’LL TALK!  I’LL TALK AS MUCH AS YOU WANT ME TO JUST DON’T SAY GOODBYE!  YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO LEAVE!  STOP!  GO AWAY!  LEAVE!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  LEAVEME ALONE!  LEAVE MEALONE!  LEAVEMEALONE!  LEAVEMEALONE!LEAVEMEALONE!LEAVEMEALONE!LEAVEMEALONELEAVEMEALONELEAVEMEALONELEAVEMEALONELEAVEMEALONE-**

 

A choked sob worked it’s way up his throat and he could do nothing to stifle it.  

 

     He felt empty, but at the same time, filled to the brim with guilt, and even more so the want to destroy.  

 

     Maybe he would just have to give in.  

 

* * *

 

      Changbin had just finished cleaning the bathroom.  

 

     Moping up blood.  Picking up bills.  Throwing away pill boxes.  Throwing away the little razor he found, as well as another he found hidden under the bathroom sink.  Picking up the notebook.  

 

     The little black notebook that haunted his dreams at night.  The one he had wanted so desperately to read.  

 

     He wasn’t sure if he could now.  

 

     Jeongin had wanted it to be private.  He never intended for anyone to look inside.  Shouldn’t he honor Jeongin’s wish.  

 

     He tried to convince himself that that was why he was sitting down on the freshly cleaned bathroom floor with the little notebook only a few feet away.  Why he couldn’t bring himself to open it.  Why he couldn’t even look at it.  

 

     But, deep down, he knew what it really was.  

 

     It was fear.  

 

     Fear.

 

     Fear more intense than it had ever been.

 

     Not floating in the back of his mind.  Not tingling in his chest.  Not sliding through his veins or shaking in his muscles.  

 

     It was overtaking him.  

 

     Making him feel like he couldn’t move, breath, or even blink.  It was crippling, like a disease.  Taking.  Attacking.  Hurting.  Killing. 

 

    Slowly.  Ever so slowly.  

 

     Fear.  It kept him from doing what he knew what was right like a disease kept someone stuck in a hospital bed. 

 

     But he had let fear win to many times.  

 

      He’d given in too many times, letting it control his life.  Letting it shape him and mold him into someone to afraid to fight it.  

 

     Not this time.  

 

     Not again.  

 

     Fear stopped him from asking.  

 

     It had lied to him, saying that everything would be okay.  It would be okay as long as he stayed quiet, but that wasn’t the case.  

 

     Jeongin might be dead.  All because fear kept him from asking.  Asking a simple question.  

 

     He wouldn’t let fear stop him this time.  

 

     So, with shaking hands, he reached out for the notebook, even if every bone in his body tried to stop him.  His will was stronger. 

 

     And before he knew it, he was holding it in his hands.  He just had to open it, but that seemed so hard.  He didn’t want to, but he had to.  

 

      He had to.  

 

      He told himself that as he took the hardcover in hand and opened it to the first page inside.  

 

     He wasn’t ready for this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, there is no symbolism, but I will explain something really quickly. In Jisung's mind, Jeongin is already dead, and it's completely his fault. I tried to get that across, but I wasn't sure how well it came out. I'm not saying that Jeongin is alive or not, but in Jisung's mind, he's already gone. 
> 
> Also, once again, Happy New Year! 
> 
> For this year, I've decided not to overwhelm myself, and to only start one new thing, at least for now. I want you all to vote. I've decided to put the Wings Series on hold for awhile just because it's going to take so much time and planning. I will start it at some point, but not this year. It's just too much to try and fit into one year. Also, Alchemy (Becoming something Better) the story on my original Kpop group is going to be something I work on and develop over time so it will be updated over long periods of time. That only leaves me with two choices, one that I've mentioned before and one that I recently came up with. First, is the SF9 Chanhee centric story. It is not an AU and it is about Chanhee auditioning for a drama. There is a lot of angst, and it is focused on Chanhee and an abusive director. It's something I was super excited about in the beginning, but now I'm not so sure. That's actually how most of my stories go, including this one, but I usually get back into it after writing it for awhile. The second is another Jeongin Centric story, but this time, it's and Au. It's a high school AU about Chan meeting and befriending the new kid, Jeongin, whom just so happens to be blind. That one is definitely a lot lighter than the Chanhee one, but there will also be a lot of angst. It's inspired by my recent love of Molly Burke. She's such an inspiration. Go check her out on youtube if you don't know who she is. Like seriously. 
> 
> I would love for you guys to pick which one you would like to see first! Thanks so much for reading and Happy 2019! Much Love!
> 
> Next update: February 1st 2019


	11. Be Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've got quite a bit to say down in the end chapter notes so I'm not going to say much here other than thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

    Chan was a little more than surprised to hear knocking on the door at half past 1 in the morning.  They weren’t expecting anyone, and if Chunso really needed to contact them he would just call them.  The only people that it really seem logical to be was with Minho or Felix, but Felix was adamant about not coming back and he was sure that Minho wouldn’t leave him alone.

 

     Still, he made his way towards the door, hoping that he didn’t look too awful.  He’d been crying for hours and his head was pounding.  He was sure the rest of the group wasn’t much better.  

 

     He took a deep breath before he opened the door.  

 

      “Hello?” he said as he opened the door.  He knew that whoever was on the other side wouldn’t be able to see him well because he hadn’t turned the light on, but he didn’t bother going back to turn it on.  

 

     The light outside was enough to make at the person, people actually, at the door.

 

     “Jae hyung?”  Chan was a little shocked.  He and Jae knew each other a bit and they had each other’s numbers, but they honestly didn’t talk much.  There wasn’t much reason for him to be there, but then he looked over at Jisung, who stared at the ground.  

 

     “Hey.  I found him wandering out on the streets.  I thought I should bring him back.”  Jae said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.  

 

     “Oh, uh, thank you.”  There was awkward silence before Chan hurriedly moved out of the way, feeling a little flustered.  “Jisung why don’t you go to your room and rest a bit?”

 

     Chan gently pulled Jisung inside, wrapping an arm around him.  “Thanks again hyung.  I didn’t even know he’d gone out.”

 

      “Wait, do you mind if I - um - talk to you for a bit?”  Jae wrung his hands together nervously.  This was a side of Jae he hadn’t seen before.  Jae was confident and proud.  He spoke loudly and excitedly.  He wasn’t nervous or afraid and Chan didn’t know what to think.  

 

      “Y-yeah.  Just let me take him up to his room first.  Come on in, you can sit in the living room.  I’ll be right back.”  Chan moved out of the way so that Jay could follow him in.  Then he shut the door and guided Jisung to his room.  

 

      The boy was silent the whole way there, but he wasn’t surprised.  None of them had really been up for conversation.  They’d hardly even spoke to each other unless it was necessary.  If they did speak when it wasn’t required, then it was angry, or sad, or crying and Chan couldn’t take it.  

 

    He preferred the quiet.

 

    Once they got to Jisung’s room, the younger boy pulled out of his grip and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.  Chan wasn’t surprised.  He didn’t try to follow.  Jisung wanted to be alone.  Why else would he have left.  

 

     He walked back to the living room.  Jae was sitting on the couch, wringing his hands together.  He was leaned over, arms resting on his knees.  He seemed nervous.  

 

     “What did you want to talk about hyung?” he asked as he sat down across from him.  He already had an idea about what the answer was, but he asked anyway.  

 

     “Jisung was about to kill himself when I found him.”  Jae seemed to blurt it out, as if he was sure what to say so he just yelled out the first thing he could think of.  

 

     “Oh?” Chan felt like he should’ve been shocked, but he wasn’t.  Jeongin had been a shock, but now he wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else had been thinking about it too.  He definitely had when he’d found out.  He’d failed Jeongin after all.  How was he supposed to watch out for the rest of them when he couldn’t keep an eye out for one.

 

     Jae waited for a moment, as if anticipating some other reaction, but when he got none, he continued.  “H-He said something about seeing him again and apologizing.  He said that he’d failed him.”

 

     Chan didn’t have to ask who.  They’d all failed him.  

 

      “H-he said Jeongin killed himself.  Is that true?  Did he really?”

 

      Chan clenched a fist.  “Tried to.  Whether he was successful or not, we don’t know.”

 

     “So he’s not . . . not dead?”

 

     “No, but he might be soon.  It didn’t look good.”  Chan’s voice shook ever so slightly. 

 

     “Jisung . . . he seemed to think that he was already gone.”

 

     “He could be for all we know, and you know, that’s what he wanted.  He wanted to be dead.  Maybe it would just be better if he was.”

 

     Jae gaped at him.  

 

     “He wasn’t happy.  He said so.  He said that before he did it, he wanted to feel regret or fear, but he was just happy because he knew he wouldn’t have to wake up again.  I don’t know what that’s like, but I don’t think it could be fun to hate life so much that the only thing you wanted was to not wake up again.”  

 

     “A letter?”  Jae guessed 

 

    Chan nodded.  “Left one for all of us.” he choked on a sob.  “Left some for his family to.  Wanted to tell us everything before he left.  Wanted to let us know how much he hates himself.  Wanted to tell us that it isn’t our fault when there isn’t anyone else to blame.”  A tear streaked down his cheek.  His voice was raising, edging on hysterics.  “And he wanted to remind us that he loved us.  I don’t even remember the last time I told him that.  I never reminded him that he was wanted here.  And all he could say is that I’m a great leader!”  Chan stood up, pacing across the room.  “What kind of leader doesn’t notice when one of his members is going to kill himself!  What kind of leader doesn’t see that they’re hurting!  What kind of leader just lets it go on!  What kind of leader does that make me?  What did Jeongin see in me because I sure as hell don’t see it now?!  I don’t see how a ‘great leader’ could just let this happen!  I don’t see how I could just sit by and watch!  I knew something was wrong!  I knew!  I was sure that he wasn’t okay and I didn’t go and ask!  I didn’t do anything!  I just took the cowardly path and-“

 

     “You took the path that you thought was best at the time,” Jae interrupted.  He stood up, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.  “You are a great leader, even Sungjin admits it and he’s been leading our group for over three years now.  Did you notice that something was wrong, sure, maybe you did.  Did you not ask because you didn’t care, I can’t answer that for you, but I’m willing to bet that the reason you didn’t ask is because you thought that there was another, better option.  That’s what being a leader means.  It means making tough decisions and hoping it works out, and you know, it doesn’t all the time.  Sometimes, life likes to throw things at us that we don’t expect.  No matter how many times we sit down and go through all the causes of our actions, there’s a hundred, maybe more, other things that we didn’t think of.  This is just one of those.  Is it a good thing, no, definitely not, but you didn’t know that this would happen because of one decision.  If you did, I bet you would go back and change everything the minute you had a chance.”

 

      Chan stared at him, eyes glassy, afraid, sad, and hopeless.  That was a new look, a new feeling for him.  He never truly felt hopeless.  

 

      It was foreign.  It’d taken him awhile to place it.  He didn’t realize what it was until then, but now that he’d placed it, it felt more overwhelming than any guilt, no matter how deep it cut.  

 

     He couldn’t help Jeongin, and for all he knew, Jeongin was already dead.  He could’ve been dead since the moment he’d swallowed the first pill.  He could’ve sealed his fate in stone the moment he decided to kill himself and Chan felt like there was no saving him.  

 

     Maybe what Jisung thought was more than just a thought.  Maybe Jeongin really was dead, inside or out.  Maybe, even if he lived, he wouldn’t live again.  Maybe he never was.  

 

     Maybe there was no saving Jeongin.  

 

     Maybe a hospital wasn’t enough to fix him.  

 

     Because a hospital can fix a body.  They can heal broken bones.  They can cure sickness.  They can stitch up cuts.  

 

      But they can’t fix a shattered mind.  

 

      Maybe Chan didn't feel like Jeongin’s dead.  Maybe he was alive and possibly even awake, but he didn't feel like they have any hope of giving him life.   

 

* * *

 

 

_“Going to sleep is hard these days”_

 

Changbin sat in the bathroom floor, reading.  He’d flipped to the first page.  It was written in blue ink.  Scribbled on as if rushing, pouring things out of his mind.  

 

      “ _Waking up is even harder”_

 

Changbin had never been a morning person.  He knew it was hard to wake up.  To get up from a cozy bed after a good night’s sleep.  But he didn’t think that that was what Jeongin meant when he wrote that.  

 

      _“At night, my mind is so loud.  It’s so, so loud and I hate it.  But it’s easy to silence it.  I just need to give it what it wants and then I can sleep.”_

 

Changbin wondered what he had to give it in order to make it be quiet.  His mind, soul, limb, blood, pain, tears, hours or rest, and eventually his life. 

 

      _“But in the morning it’s too quiet.  It’s like it’s empty, so I have to fill it with something.”_

 

Changbin didn’t know what was worse.  Being so overwhelmed that you were bursting at the seams, or being so empty that you had to force something into your mind.  He imagined they were but horrible.  

 

      _“I don’t like it when it’s quiet.  It’s lonely.  Maybe that’s why I find it so easy to fill my head with hate.  I see it everywhere.  Hate.  So much hate.”_

 

He knew the world was hateful, but he’d always tried not to focus on it.  It was too distracting and there was too much to do.  But Jeongin had focused too much on it.  

 

      _“I guess that’s why I hate myself so much.”_

 

Jeongin saw it all, and let it take over, but Jeongin wasn’t one to harbor hate for anyone, whether they’d wronged him or not.  So, he just directed the hate and the one thing he could bear to let himself despise.  Himself.  

 

      _“I wish I was just dead sometimes.”_

 

Changbin choked back a sob.  Jeongin was the only on who wanted him gone.  The rest of them needed him.  They couldn’t make it without him.  

 

     _“It would be so easy.  I’d just have to get myself alone for a few minutes at the least.  Maybe a half hour, but I don’t think it’d even take that long.”_

 

It hadn’t taken long.  They’d been gone for less than half a day.  That was enough time for him to clean up for them, and lay everything out like he wanted.  He imagined it only took him about ten minutes to down most of the pills.

 

      _“Only a few seconds if I chose to jump.  I could just run to the roof of our dorm building.  I could even jump out the bedroom window in the middle of the night.  I wouldn’t even need to be alone.  I would be gone before they could do anything, but it might not be high enough.  I don’t know.  Is six stories enough?”_

 

Changbin wonders how often Jeongin actually thought about doing it.  He could’ve done it.  Any night, none of them would’ve even had a chance.  They probably would’ve just slept right through it.

 

     _“I think it is, but I’m not sure I want to go out that way.  It’s fast, but it draws attention.  I don’t want that.  Maybe if I jumped into the river, but drowning doesn’t sound fun.  I just want it to be fast, and quiet.”_

 

It wasn’t going to be quiet that was for sure.  Not for them at least.  The people might forget, the staff might forget, even some of the fans might forget, but hey would never forget.  

 

     _“I feel like, if it’s too slow, I’ll change my mind.  Dying scares me, but living is even scarier.”_

 

Living was scary.  Wasn’t that the whole point of life though?

 

     _“I don’t want to live anymore.  It hurts so much, but I’m too afraid to die.  My mind tells me I should just do it, but every time I decide to, instinct pulls me back.  I’m scared.  Sometimes, I wish I would just get hit by a car or something.  Then I wouldn’t have to decide, but so far, I haven’t been that lucky.”_

 

Changbin snapped the book shut.  He was done reading it, at least for awhile.  

 

      Instead, he sat it aside and curled into a ball.  He felt pathetic for crying, but right then, crying was the only thing he felt like doing.  

 

* * *

 

     Minho knew it was a bad idea, but he just couldn’t take it anymore.  

 

      He left.  Felix was alone, but he had to get out.  He had to do something.  He just couldn’t stand to lay there and do nothing for any longer.  He felt like he would explode.  

 

     His mind was empty, so so empty, but at the same time too full.  

 

      He ran from the hotel to the company building and snuck inside.  They’d been told to say inside as much as possible, and weren’t even supposed to be at the company, but he didn’t care.  He just had to get out.  He had to get out.  He had to get _it_ out of his head.  

 

      It wasn’t hard to get in.  People weren’t paying much attention to him it seemed.  It didn’t even take him a full five minutes to get from the entrance to the practice room, and nobody stopped to question him when he slipped inside and locked the door.  

 

     The security cameras probably caught him walking in though, and he would probably get in trouble if someone saw it but he just didn't care.  He tried, but he didn’t.

 

      Once inside, he shoved his headphones in his ears and his phone his pocket.  Normally he would use the speakers, but he didn’t want to be bothered.  He just wanted to dance.  That was it.  

 

      And that’s what he did.  He danced, letting the songs file through on his playlist.  He let his mind focus on the steps and the music.  It was fast, heavy, and upbeat.  His heart was racing and his clothes were soaked but he wasn’t ready to stop.  

 

     Not when his legs started to burn with fatigue and he could barely get his arms above his head.  Not when his lungs forced him to gasp for air and his throat and mouth were drier than a desert.  Not when his moved went from sharp and precise to sloppy and lazy and he started to fall behind the music.  Not even when he could barely stay on his own two feet.  

 

      He wasn’t ready to quit because it was his only solid foundation at the moment.  The minute he stopped, he knew that it would all just crumbling down again.  Like a house built on the sand, the minute a storm came, it would be blown away.

 

     He didn’t stop until his unsteady legs gave out on him, and even then he tried desperately to stand again.  He pushed up on weak arms and tried to get his footing as he stood but he couldn’t.  It took around ten unsuccessful attempts before he realized that it was futile to try anymore.  He probably realized before then, but he was just to desperate to believe it.  

 

     When he finally gave in, he just lay back on the cold wooden dance floor and started up at the ceiling.  Maybe he cried, maybe he didn’t.  Everything had been blurry for awhile so there wasn’t anyway for him to tell.  

 

     And he just lay there, his mind so tired.  He was tired and sleep sounded nice.  It sounded really nice. 

 

      He decided that maybe, it was okay to just sleep for a little.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Felix woke up somewhere unfamiliar.  

 

     That was the first thing he noticed.  

 

     Then, in a rush of thoughts and bad memories, he remembered.  

 

     The next thing he noticed was that he was alone.  

 

     He remembered Minho being there, but he wasn’t anymore. 

 

     The third thing he noticed was dark rust colored stains on the sheets.  

 

      He remembered his hands, his cut palms and stinging sensations.  

 

      The last thing he noticed was the dread in his stomach.

 

     He remembered Jeongin, lying cold on the bathroom floor, still, not breathing, and trying to bring him back and-

 

      Too many thoughts bounced around his head.

 

     He dug his nails into his hands without thinking.  Stinging.  That stinging sensation.  It brought relief.  He didn’t even need to press that hard before his hands started to bleed.  The cuts from the night before were still sensitive, but it still brought relief.  So much relief.

 

      His mind was clear, blank, empty, finally.  

 

     He breathed in deeply, trying to think clearly.  Minho.  He had to find Minho.  That was what needed to be done first.  

 

     “Hyung?” he called out, thinking maybe he was just in the bathroom.  No answer.  He peaked inside.  The door was unlocked and for half a second he expected to see the same sight he did the day before, but instead, the room was empty.  

 

      He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.  

 

     He tried to think rationally before he freaked out, but his mind was already starting to wander.  He forced the thoughts down.  He had to focus, think normally.  He probably just went to the lobby to get something from the vending machine.  He was probably on his way back and all Felix had to do was wait for that. 

 

      So, he went to the bathroom and cleaned off his hands.  He showered, albeit quickly, and dried of quickly before throwing his clothes back on.  Then he walked back into the room.  

 

     Still no Minho.  The room was empty.  Too empty.  

 

      His phone.  That was his next thought.  Minho always had his phone.  

 

      Felix pulled out his own, which was running low on battery, and called him.  No answer.  

 

     His mind started to panic again.  Racing.  Too fast.  What if he-.  Where was he?  Where did he go?  Why did he leave? Where-

 

     Chan.  He could call Chan.  Chan would be able to find him.  So he called him.  No answer.  

 

     Woojin.  Woojin always answered.  He tried.  No answer.  

 

     Changbin.  Changbin wouldn’t ignore him.  They were too close for that.  He tried.  

 

     Ring  

 

     Ring

 

     Ring

 

     Ring

 

     Felix dreaded the thought of Changbin not answering but it seemed that he was going to get the same result as before.  

 

     Ring

 

     Ring

 

     _“Felix?”_

 

     He almost cried, but he didn’t.  

 

     “Hyung?”

 

     _“Yeah?”_ Changbin’s voice was scratchy and tired.  He didn’t sleep last night.

 

      “I can’t find Minho.”

 

      _“What do you mean?  He’s at the hotel with you, right?”_

 

“N-No.  He’s not here.  I - I haven’t checked the lobby yet but I waited awhile and h-he’s not here.”  He told himself to stop stuttering - stop panicking.  He pressed his nails to his palms.  

 

     He heard quiet cursing before a distant ‘Minho’s missing’ came through the phone.  “ _Someone’s gonna come by with Seungmin, Jisung, Hyunjin and me.  We’re all gonna go to the hospital while Woojin and Chan try and find him.”_

 

      “O-okay.” He tried to stay clam, but he couldn’t.  Dread coursed through him.  What if he-

 

     _“Go ahead and wait outside.  We’re going to bring you some clean clothes too.”_ He could hear rustling on the other side of the phone, like it was just as frantic over there as his mind was.  

 

      “Alright,” and before he could let himself freak out anymore, he hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket.

 

     His hands were bleeding again.  Maybe, if he’d stopped to think about it for too long, he would’ve been freaked out by how much he’d become reliant on his new method in such a short time.  But he didn’t and so the only thought that crossed his mind was that he could see why Jeongin hurt himself.  It helped.  

 

      He washed his hand again and pressed toilet paper to the wounds until they eventually stopped bleeding.  Then he walked down the the lobby and outside into the chilly autumn air.  It looked like it would storm.  Dark clouds crossed the sky and lighting struck far in the distance.  

 

      Funny, he thought the storm had already arrived but apparently he was wrong.  

 

* * *

       

     Woojin didn’t want to admit that he was panicking.  He was the oldest, he was supposed to by calm.  He was supposed to keep everything in order.  He was supposed to make sure everything was perfect, everything was in it’s place so that stuff like this didn’t happen.  

 

     Apparently one misplaced decision had ruined everything.

 

     Now everything was out of place.  

 

     Nothing was going right.  

 

     Nothing was perfect.  

 

     Chan was on his phone as the walked around.  He’d called Minho around thirty times in the last ten minutes, trying again and again.  Woojin thought it seemed pretty useless, but at least he was doing something.  

 

      All he’d been doing is walking around aimlessly as they looked for one person in a huge city.  

 

     A specific needle in a stack of needles.  Impossible to find, and painful at best.

 

     “Try the places he likes to go.  You know that coffee shop down the street he likes?  Go there.  I’ll head to some of the places he usually goes when he walks.  He might’ve just went out to clear his mind or something.”  Chan said, ending what had to be the fortieth call

 

     Woojin meant to agree, just say yes and start looking, but that’s not what came out of his mouth.  “You don’t think he might’ve-“

 

     Chan didn’t let him finish.  “I don’t know.  Jisung almost did last night.” That was news to Woojin but Chan didn’t seem to care.  “I don’t think he will now but I don’t know about Minho.  I don’t think he would, but then again, I didn’t think Jeongin or Jisung would either.  What I do know is that we need to find him.”

 

     Woojin pursed his lips and nodded.  He had to stay focused.  He couldn’t let himself get distracted by possibilities.  He had to find Minho.

 

     He speed walked to the coffee shop that he liked but he wasn’t there.  The shop he liked was right next to it, but it was closed for repairs.  He doubted he would’ve been there anyway.  This hardly seemed like the place to be when your best friend attempted suicide.

 

      He tried to think walking aimlessly for around twenty minutes when he passed the company building.  It didn’t take him long to decide to sneak inside.  Minho didn’t go to the studio on his own much anymore,  but he used to all the time.  Before the survival show, during, when he was eliminated, and around debut.  He didn’t go back on his own unless he felt he needed to work on the choreography, which was rare for him.  If he didn’t actually help choreograph the dance, then he still picked up quickly and was usually helping the other members by the time the first practice was over.  

 

      Nobody noticed him when he snuck inside.  He thought it would’ve been chaos but it seemed fairly calm.  It seemed that mostly everyone had gone home.  He saw a few mangers and higher-ups as he passed, but no one he really knew.  Usually he would recognize a makeup artist or stylist and greet them, but there was none.  

 

      He took it as a blessing.  If they saw him, they would probably send him back to the dorm since that was where he was supposed to be.  Since no one he knew was there, he got a clear shot to the practice room.

 

      The door was locked, but there was and easy solution.  The janitor.  She was always there and she was a sweet lady.  Older, and slow moving, but sweet. 

 

     It didn’t take him long to find here.  He usually wandered the halls because there was always a mess that needed cleaning.  With a company full of teen trainees and adult idols who acted like teens, messes were common.  

 

      “Hey Mrs. Kim,” he said, trying his best to smile at her.  It wasn’t that he disliked her, it just felt hard to smile at that moment.  “How are you?”

 

     She looked up at him, probably surprised to see him but she didn’t show it.  He knew she wouldn’t make him leave.  He knew he wasn’t supposed to be there and she knew that too, so she also knew that if he was there, he was there for a reason.  Instead, she just smiled up at him.  

 

     “Oh, hello sweetie. I’m doing fine, thank you for asking.  What brings you here?” 

 

     “I’m just looking for Minho.  I think he might be in the practice room but he locked the door.  Would you mind to lend me your key so I can check.”

 

      “Ah, so that’s why you came to me.  Suck up to this old woman so she’ll help you out,” She teased.  

 

     He smiled lightly at her joke.  “You know that’s not it.  I can’t come here without saying hi.”

 

      She laughed an old toothy laugh, but it made him smile.  “Yes of course you can borrow my key.  Just let me find it.”  She looked down at her keyring, covered in about a hundred keys, each one marked with masking tape and black marker.  Most of them were starting to peal off from overuse.  “Ah, here it is.  Be sure to bring it back once you’re finished.  I’ll stay on this floor so you can find me easy.”

 

      She handed him the key and he gave a slight bow of his head.  “Thank you Mrs. Kim.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

      “You’d probably clean up your own messes,” she joked as he turned away and he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out his throat.  “Wait, she called out and he turned back around.  “That little boy, Jeongin.  He tried to kill himself didn’t he?” 

 

     His smile vanished.  “How did you know?”

 

     “I’ve been around here all night.  People talk loud when they don’t think anyone else is around.”  Woojin nodded and turned back to her, head down.  “Don’t be sad, boy.  If you focus on the sad, then it’s harder to find they happy in a situation like this.”

 

      “I don’t think there is anything to be happy about right now.” It came out as a whisper.  

 

     “Well that’s just it, you have to look for it.  There’s a positive side to everything.  I think I can tell you one right now, but I have to ask you, is he dead yet?”  Woojin shook his head.  “Well there you go.  There’s your first positive.  Now just use that to look for more.”

 

     Woojin nodded and tried to say thank you, but it wouldn’t come out, but she seemed to understand.  

 

      “No need to thank me.  Besides, I know that he’ll be alright.  You don’t need to worry.  Just be happy.”

 

      “How do you know?”

 

      She smiled at him.  “I have five kids and eleven grandchildren.  I can tell when the people I care about are going to be okay and when they’re not.  Trust this old granny.  She knows.”  And for a moment Woojin wanted to hug her but she turned away.  “Well, I have messes to clean, see you soon.”

 

      He probably stood there, just staring as she walked away for at least a minute.  His original goal was forgotten and maybe, just maybe everything felt like it was going to be alright.  

 

* * *

 

 

     Seungmin was scared as they’d walked into the hospital.  They hadn’t heard any news since the night before and none of them knew if it was a good thing, or a bad one.  He tried to hope that it was good, that it meant that nothing had gone wrong, but it felt hard to hope.

 

      They walked in silently.  Felix had been given a change of clothes and ended up changing in the bathroom, but he still looked just as awful.  His face was fearful, and shocked, as if he was reliving what had happened the day before over and over.  Jisung had been completely silent, which was unlike him.  He was usually so talkative and loud.  It felt wrong.  Changbin looked like an absolute mess.  His hair was all over the place and tear tracks stained his cheeks.  He held a little black notebook in his hand so tightly that his knuckles were white and he shook in what had to be fear.  Hyunjin looked angry.  He was usually kind and pretty tenderhearted.  He usually cried easily and loved even easier, but now he looked scary.  He looked like the kind of guy they would use as a bully in a tv show.  It was unsettling to see him like that.  

 

      Then there was him.  Seungmin liked to consider himself playful.  He liked to mess around and have fun, but he didn’t need a mirror to see that the usual spark people saw in him was gone.  He could feel it and even if he couldn’t he would’ve known anyway.  Because Jeongin gave him that spark.  His smile, his laugh, his presence.  He wondered how when it had all been fake.  A ploy to cover up his true feelings.  He wondered how it could still be so energizing when it wasn’t real.  Maybe it was like a placebo.  Maybe it felt real so it gave him energy and maybe, his body couldn’t keep up and was on the bring of crashing.  It sure felt like that. 

 

      He was so tired.  

 

      Maybe he just needed to rest.  

 

      Maybe he needed a break.

 

      Maybe he should just quit.

 

      Maybe he should-

 

      “We’re here for Yang Jeongin.” Changbin’s firm voice cut through his thoughts.  He wondered how he could still sound so confident when he definitely didn’t look like it.  He looked terrified.  

 

     “Are you family?”

 

     “No.” 

 

     “Then I’m afraid I can’t give you much information.  If you’d like to go to the waiting room I think his family came in earlier.  They might be willing to tell you something. The waiting room is just right down the hall next to room 150.”

 

     Changbin pursed his lips, looking tempted to protest.  Hyunjin stood next to him, fuming, angry.  He was just about to say something when Changbin spoke first.  “Thank you ma’am.”  He bowed his head slightly before walking towards the waiting room, dragging Hyunjin behind him by the arm.  The rest of them followed without question.

 

       Seungmin was furthest behind, picking up the rear.  His feet felt heavy, like they didn’t want to go inside.  Maybe he didn’t.  Maybe he just wanted to lay down in his bed and stay oblivious to everything.  That sounded nice.  

 

      Before he could decide to turn around and leave, however, he walked into the waiting room.  

There were other people in the room already.  There was a man dressed in a suit and tie and hair that must’ve been greased back at some point but messed up after.  He looked like Jeongin, except the eyes were more rounded rather than sharp.  He had to be Jeongin’s father.  Then there was another man next to him.  He looked younger than his father, but older than Jeongin.  He was wearing a nice shirt tucked into some nice slacks and wore dress shoes.  He looked like a collage student.  It had to be his older brother.  There was no doubt.  He and Jeongin looked exactly alike other than the mole just below his eye.  They could’ve been twins if they were the same age.  Next to him was a women.  She was petite, probably only around 5’0.  She had a rounder face, but she and Jeongin had the same eyes.  Sharp and dark like a desert fox.  She was dressed in some jeans and a nice white shirt.  She looked like she’d just come from a photoshoot or something important because her makeup had been smeared and her wavy hair looked to be in tangles.  She was Jeongin’s mother, he knew.  They’d met her once before.  In her lap was a younger boy who by process of elimination, had to be Jeongin’s younger brother.  He looked confused and scared.  He was wearing a school uniform so it was more proof that the four of them had to have rushed to get there.  He looked a lot more like his mom than he did his dad but he and Jeongin were obviously brothers.  

 

      Jeongin’s older brother looked up and immediately stood up.  “Uh - hello,” he seemed frazzled.  “M-My name is Gyeongsu.  Yang Gyeongsu.  You must be Jeongin’s group mates.”  Jeongin’s father looked up and stood up as well.  

 

      “Yes.  My name’s Changbin,” Changbin answered, surprisingly calm.  “And this his Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung, and Seungmin.”

 

       “I-It’s good to meet you.  I’m sorry it has to be under such circumstances.” Gyeongsu said, reaching out to shake his hand.  Jeongin’s father walked up, but stood right behind his son with a deathly glare.  

 

       “I am too.” Changbin said.  Gyeongsu nodded.  “I don’t suppose you all have heard anything yet?”

 

     Gyeongsu shook his head, pursing his lips.  “We’ve been here for hours and they won’t tell us anything.  I don’t think-,” Gyeongsu glanced back at his younger brother before lowering his voice.  “I don’t think it’s looking good.  They’ve told us a bit about what they’re trying to do but nothing much on his condition.”

 

     Changbin nodded.  “Lets go sit down then.  It looks like we’re going to be waiting for a while.”

 

      Gyeongsu nodded and each of them went to their seats.  Jeongin’s father glared at them the entire way, and once they were sitting, he continued to stare.  

 

      He blamed them for what happened.  Seungmin figured that out quickly.  He was making it very clear.  

 

       Maybe it was okay though, because Suengmin blamed himself too.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No symbolism again. I'll probably get back into it next chapter, or maybe the one after, but not heavily. 
> 
>  
> 
> I do have a lot to say. I will have to go back to posting only once a month. I'm going to be super busy in these next couple of months because of a musical that I'm going to be in and also some extra ACT prep courses I'm going to be taking. I've also got a lot of things to do with my school and youth band so I don't have much time, especially since I'm falling behind in school because of everything I have to do.
> 
> I've also got some other things going on but I'm not going to get into it right now. I'll probably end up writing a oneshot based off it for my other series anyway. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Make sure to get lots of sleep, eat well, and try not to stress too much!
> 
> Next update: March 1st, 2019


	12. Guessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it came down to it, they were all just guessing, even if they really knew the right answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I have quite a bit to say in the end chapter notes! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Changbin felt so lost.  He’d hoped that the notebook would answer his questions, but all it did was create more.  Every time it did actually answer a question, more came up.  Other times he was left with vague sentences that did nothing to help him.  

 

      Other times there would be some, seemingly random, spike of ‘I feel okay’ before it’d dive straight back into ‘I really really hate myself’.  Changbin just didn’t understand.  He wouldn’t say his emotions were the most stable.  He had his fair of ups and downs, but he’d never had such a swift change of heart.  

 

      Some of the pages were slightly wrinkled, as iff someone had been gripping them tightly.  Others were stiff in some places like someone had cried over them.  Others, were covered in red.  

 

       He felt, like, as he kept reading, things were getting worse, but he couldn’t tell.  Maybe there were always bad.  Maybe things were never good and he just didn’t notice.  

 

      It was like playing a game a charades or something.  He had an image of what this thing was, dancing around right in front of him, trying to match whatever image he had of that thing in his head, but it wasn’t working, and he was guessing all the wrong things.  He was just shouting out random things, hoping to guess something right because time was running out.  The hourglass was going on it’s last grains of sand and he was desperate for answers.  

 

      He looked through, trying to find all the clues, but things conflicted.  Things didn’t make sense.  What Jeongin was saying didn’t seem to make sense.  He didn’t understand.  

 

      He wasn’t sure if it was just Jeongin’s mind, or his own.  Maybe whatever Jeongin had been going through was simply something he wasn’t able to understand.  Maybe it was something in Jeongin’s mind. 

 

      Or maybe, Changbin was afraid to understand.  Maybe he was afraid of the answers.  And there it was again, fear, coursing through his veins.  And maybe, deep down, he knew the right answers, but he was still to afraid to say them.  

 

      It looked like fear would be winning again.

 

* * *

 

     “Minho?”  

 

      Woojin peaked into the dance studio.  The lights were on and he could see the younger man laying still in the middle of the floor.  Dread took over for about two seconds before he managed to see that his chest was still rising and falling, and that he actually seemed to be snoring.  

 

      It was peaceful, despite the situation. 

 

     Woojin walked over to him.  “Minho.”  He crouched down before gently shaking him.  “Minho.  You need to wake up.  We have to go to the hospital.”

 

      Minho stirred a bit, opening his eyes ever so slightly before closing them once more.  “Minho.” Woojin said again.  “We don’t have time for this.  Everyone’s been freaking out.”  Minho stirred again, and this time he blinked his eyes open before looking up at him groggily.  

 

      “Hyung?”  Minho looked around, looking confused.  It seemed to take him a solid minute before he remembered where he was, and another thirty seconds before everything from the day before came back to him.  

 

      He jerked up, scrambling to his feet.  “Oh crap, I’m sorry.  I just couldn’t sleep and I didn’t know what to do.  I’m sorry.  I’m so-“

 

      “Hey, calm down,” Woojin said.  “It’s fine.  Don’t worry about it.”

 

      “What about Felix?  I just left him there!  What kind of h-“

 

       “Minho, you need to calm down.”  Woojin tried again.  “Felix is fine.  He’s with everyone else at the hospital.  We’re going to meet them there.”  Despite Woojin’s words, Minho still hung his head in shame.  “Don’t feel bad.  No one is going to blame you for needing to blow off some steam.”

 

      “That doesn’t make it okay though.  I should of at least told him where I was going.  He was already so panicked yesterday.  I’m sure I didn’t do anything to help.”  Minho ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration.  

 

     “None of us are thinking straight right now.  Sure it’s not okay, but you aren’t the only one who’s messed up in the last twenty four hours.  I’m sure we all have.”  Woojin rested a hand on his shoulder before giving him the most genuine smile he could muster.  “Stop moping and lets head out.  We haven’t lost him yet, and I have a good feeling that we won’t.  If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll get to see him today.”

 

      Minho was silent for a few moments before he looked back up at him.  “Is it okay to be scared?”

 

     Woojin pursed his lips.  “Yeah it is.  To be honest, I’m scared to.  I’m really scared, but we can’t let that take over.  There’s still a chance for hi-“

 

     “I’m not scared of losing him,” Minho interrupted.  “I mean, I am but, that’s not what’s really scaring me.”

 

       “What is it then?  What are you scared of.”

 

      Minho took a deep breath.  “Myself?  I guess.  Or what I’m going to do.”

 

      Woojin was silent.  Minho turned back to the floor with clenched fists.  Woojin could see his shoulders start to shake, evidence of the silent tears falling, that were steadily growing louder and louder.  

 

      He pulled out his phone and quickly found Chan’s contact.  “Hey, Chan - Yeah, I found him - Look, you should head on to the hospital.  I think we’re going to stay and talk for awhile - It doesn’t matter where we are, I just think he needs to talk a bit, maybe calm down.  We’ll meet you at the hospital soon - Yeah, I’ll make sure to tell you when we’re on our way.  Call me if anything happens there okay - Yeah.  Thanks - Bye.”  Woojin shoved his phone back into his pocket.  

 

      “Why don’t we sit and talk for awhile?”

 

* * *

 

 

     Hyunjin couldn’t sit still.  He was fidgeting around, tapping his foot, playing with his fingernails, and pacing around the room.  It was probably annoying everyone else in the room, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care.  His mind was too busy coming up with different situations or scenarios that Jeongin was in right now, trying to find which one was the most likely.  

 

      It was like he was blind wondering around a vast forest searching for people.  He could hear them.  They were shouting, trying to get his attention.  He’d try to call back out to them, try to find them, but they always moved, and new voices took their place.  

 

     If he called ‘Marco’  fifty thoughts shouted back ‘Polo’.  He’d try to follow their sound, to latch on to one coherent thought, but he had to call out again, because the echo of their voice was gone.  So he’d call out ‘Marco’ again, but the voice was different from the one before.  After awhile, he found himself searching for the closest voice out of desperation.  It no longer mattered which one he caught first, as long as he got one.  

 

     He still failed each time.  

 

      So, he kept going.  He called ‘Marco’ over a hundred times and heard thousands of different voices call back ‘Polo’ but he still couldn’t catch them.  He was blindly reaching out now, just hoping to grasp onto something.  

 

      The only thing was, he wasn’t really blind.  In a game of Marco Polo, there person who’s ‘it’ simply has to close their eyes for the game to begin.  

 

     So, all he had to do was open his eyes, and everything would be clear again.  

 

      But he never did.  He just kept his eyes closed, blindly searching for answers.  He let the thoughts guide him around.  He let himself look like a fool.  He let himself be blind to it, all so he didn’t have to see the real answers standing right next to him.  All so he didn’t have to face them.  

 

      All so he didn’t have to see the truth.

 

     Because sometimes, it was easier to keep guessing than to know the right answer.  

 

* * *

 

 

     “Family of Yang Jeongin.”  Dr. Kang stepped into the waiting room, which was filled with people at that point.  

 

       Jeongin’s father stood up.  “Yes I’m his dad.  How is he?”

 

       Dr. Kang glanced around the room.  He already knew most of the people there weren’t actually family, but he didn’t bother telling them to leave.  He guessed that they were probably just as close.  “Well, he’s improving, but slowly.  We aren’t too worried about have of the cuts.  A few had to have stitches, but they should heal up okay in a few days, though it’ll probably scar.  Right now we’re most worried about his weight and the organs that were affected by the pills.  As we said, they did major damage to his liver, but we’re doing our best for him.”

 

       “And will he be okay,” Jeongin’s mother asked, looking desperate.  “Is he going to make it.”

 

      “Well, I wouldn’t say he’s out of the woods yet, but if he keeps going on the path he is now, I say that there’s a good chance he’s going to be okay.  If I’m being optimistic, he might even be waking up soon.  Possibly tomorrow.”  

 

       “Oh thank god,” Mrs. Yang said, cupping her hands over her face sobbing in relief.  

 

       “I can even allow you to see him if you’d like,” Dr. Kang said in a gentler tone.  “But I’m afraid I can only let family in.  Anyone else will need to wait a couple of days or so.”  Everyone besides Jeongin’s family looked ready to protest, but he spoke before they could.  “I’m sorry.  I wish I could let you all into see him, but that’s just our rules.  I will try to see what I can do, but for now, I can only let family in.”  

 

       There was a brief moment of silence before Mr. Yang spoke up.  “Can you take us to him please then?”

 

      “Of course, but again, anyone who isn’t family, will need to stay here.”  Everyone nodded in understanding.  “Alright then, follow me.”  

 

      Jeongin’s family all followed behind.  The rest were tempted to sneak along, but they knew better.  They didn’t want to risk not getting to see him at all later on, just to see him once right then.  

 

       The would just have to keep waiting.  

 

* * *

 

 

      Jisung felt confused.  Hadn’t Jeongin been dead last night, or was that just his imagination?  Weren’t they coming to pay his final respects, or had he just gotten his facts mixed around.  

 

      Maybe he was in an alternate universe.  Maybe he was in a dream.  Maybe this was reality, and everything up until now had been in his head.  

 

      He couldn’t figure out what was going on.  His head was racing and his heart was pounding.  He couldn’t keep a coherent thought.  He was running around, trying to grasp at anything that would help him figure out what was really real, and what was all just his imagination.  

 

      It was all so jumbled, and he couldn’t keep his head straight for more than about a second.

 

      He couldn’t think one truly coherent thought.  It was like they were running away.  Like kids playing tag, they avoided him like he was a plague.  

 

        The treated him like something to be afraid of and avoided him at all costs and he just couldn’t keep up.  Like he was that one chubby kid in kindergarten who always got picked to be ‘it’ because they were slow.  They were easy to run away from.  

 

      He tried so desperately to keep up with his own racing mind but it just caused more confusion.  Exhaustion.  He was so tired.  His head hurt and he was tired.  He should’ve stayed home, but then, Jeongin was at the hospital wasn’t he?  Or wasn’t he dead?  Had he been dead for awhile?  Wasn’t he already buried?  Why were they at the hospital again?  He still needed to apologize.  How was he supposed to do that if Jeongin was already dead?  Or was he alive?

 

      His mind was so mixed with contradicting thoughts that he felt like screaming.  

 

      His hands were shaking and he could feel tears pooling in his eyes, almost desperately trying to escape his eyes.  He tried to blink them away, but they fought back harder than he could.  Before he could stop himself, he was sobbing.  

 

       He just wanted to know.  He needed to know.  And then he would be okay, but he was to slow, and his mind was too fast.  

 

      He just couldn’t keep up, so he would be left behind.  

 

_____

 

 

      “You all should head home,” Chunso stated.  “I know you really wanted to see him today, but visiting hours are already over and only family is allowed to stay overnight.  It’d be best if you all just got some rest for now.”

 

      At that point, it was dark out and Chan, Woojin, and Minho had arrived.  They’d been sitting there for hours with no more news from anyone.  Jeongin’s family were presumably still with him as they hadn’t come back since they’d left.  

 

     “He’s right.”  Chan agreed.  The situation felt so familiar to the night before, so so familiar, and it left them all with a sense of dread.  “It’s late.  We should all try and get some rest.  We might get to see him tomorrow and we should save our energy for that.”

 

      Nobody protested this time, though, nobody moved either.  Perhaps it was a silent protest.  They didn’t want to leave so they just wouldn’t move at all.  Or maybe they all felt like the couldn’t move.  Maybe they were too numb, or maybe they were feeling to much and it just paralyzed them all.  

 

      “Please.  I really need you all to cooperate,” Chunso begged.  Still, no one moved.  “We all need rest, and Dr. Kang promised to call if anything happened.  We should all just go home and try to rest.”

 

      It took about another thirty minutes of pleading before they all finally stood.  It took another ten before they were actually able to leave the hospital.  No one was in a rush.  They all hoped for some last minute news, or even better, being told they could see him. 

 

      Nobody spoke on the way back to the dorm.  The only stop they made was to drop Felix off at the hotel.  This time, Changbin would be staying with him.  No one specifically stated why, but they all knew.  They weren’t sure how long they would allow him to stay out of the dorm, but then again, none of them really wanted to stay there anymore.  It didn’t feel like home anymore.  

 

     When they got back, most of them went inside without a word, but Chunso grabbed Chan by the sleeve before he could disappear along with them.  

 

     “Hey, I know things are still . . . not to great right now, but JYP-nim asked me if you would be willing to speak with him tomorrow.  He said if you aren’t ready, then he’s fine to wait, but he told me to ask anyway.”  Chunso asked, sounding tense and tired.  Things had probably been difficult with the company.  Apparently even some of the other artists were being effected by it. 

 

      “Do you know what he wanted to talk about?”  Chan asked.  He would’ve preferred to go to the hospital, but if it was important, he felt like he would need to suck it up.  All of this was partly his fault for not noticing in the first place.

 

      “No.  He didn’t say, but it probably has to do something with either the company’s statement about the Jeongin, or the future of the group.  If you aren’t ready to face any of that yet, then just say so.  He’ll understand.”  

 

      Chan thought for a moment.  Was he ready to face that.  No probably not, but that didn’t really matter.  If he was being asked to come and talk about it so soon, he figured it was probably important.  “No.  I can go.  What time does he want me there?”

 

     “He just said to go in whenever you’re ready.  Just tell me when and I’ll send him a message so I can make sure he’s free.”

 

      “Could I go in early then.  Before visiting hours start at the hospital?”

 

      Chunso nodded.  “That should be fine.  Would you like someone to pick you up and drive you there, or would you rather just go on your own.”

 

      “I’ll walk by myself if that’s alright.”  

 

      “Of course.  I can pick you up from there when I come to get everyone else.”

 

      Chan nodded.  “Thanks.”

 

      “No need.”  Chunso patted his shoulder.  “You should get some rest.  It’s been a long couple of days and I doubt they’re going to get any shorter anytime soon.”

 

     Chan tried to give the man a smile, but it was week.  “I’ll try.”

 

     “Good.  Hey, and try and be a little more hopeful.  I have a good feeling that things well get better.  Maybe not soon, but they’ll get better.”  Chunso said before turning back and getting back in their van.  

 

      Chan smiled again, and maybe this time, it was a little more genuine than before.  

 

 

_____

 

 

      Changbin couldn’t sleep, but neither could Felix.  The hotel felt so foreign.  There wasn’t a sound to be heard.  The bed’s were large, firm and uncomfortable.  The room was too small for even just the two of them.  The wallpaper was different.  The smell was different.  Everything was so different.  

 

      But then again, the dorm felt too familiar.  A memory around every corner and on every surface.  Familiar voices joking around and making too much noise.  All nine of them cramped around the kitchen table, or huddled in front of the TV.  It was so familiar.  Too familiar, because all the memories included the one person they might not get to see alive again.  

 

     No matter what the doctor said, everything still felt so hopeless.  If Jeongin had really wanted to die so badly, wouldn’t he just try again as soon as he had the chance.  So even if he survived, how long would that be for.  He probably learned from his mistakes the first time.  He would probably be smarter.  Do things more efficiently.

 

       “Hyung,” Felix called out suddenly.  

 

      Changbin didn’t answer.  He was too invested in the little black notebook in his hands.  

 

     “Hyung,” he tried again.

 

      “Yeah?” Changbin didn’t look up.  

 

     “Do you think Jeongin’s gonna be okay?”

 

      “I don’t know.”  Changbin’s voice was short.  He sounded annoyed, but to Felix it sounded more like avoidance.  He didn’t want to talk about it.  He didn’t want to talk about the future.  

 

      “Do you think we’re gonna be okay?”

 

     Changbin paused for a moment, before sighing deeply.  “I don’t know.” 

 

       Felix went silent again, and Changbin went back to reading.  What had to have been at least an hour of silence passed before either of them spoke up again.  

 

    “Hyung,” Felix called for the third time.  He didn’t wait for an answer this time.  “Why do you think Jeongin did it?”

 

     Changbin looked up this time, the first time in hours, before setting the notebook down.  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.  He . . . He always looked so happy.”

 

      “Did he really though?” Felix questioned.  Changbin stopped.  Did he?  No, not really, but was he good at making it seem like it?  Yeah, he was really good at that.  Felix spoke up again when Changbin didn’t answer him.  “I think I might know.  Not why he tried to, well, you know, but why he would hurt himself.”

 

     “What do you mean.  Why would he do it?” Changbin asked.  

 

     Felix was staring intently at the palms of his hands as if they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  “Becuase it helps.”

 

      Changbin glanced at Felix’s hands and then practically leaped out of bed and stormed the two feet it took to get to Felix’s.  Once there, he grabbed the younger man’s hands into his own and looked at them.  There were crescent moon shaped cuts littered all over them.  Blood was smeared around, some dried, some wet as if he’d just done it.  His nails were coated in read too.  “Why the hell would you-“

 

     “Because it helps,” Felix said again.  “The other day in the ambulance, I needed something to ground me and this happened.  And it helped.  It kept me calm, so I’ve been doing it since then, pretty much every hour of the day.  And best of all, it’s easy!  It’s so easy.  Just look, I didn’t even try to hide it, and no one noticed until I pretty much told you.  People are so so distracted trying by trying to look for obscure clues that they can’t see that the most important ones are right in front of them!” 

 

        Changbin was shocked into silence.  Was that right?  Wasn’t that what he was doing.  Searching through the little black notebook for hours, even though everything he needed was right in front of him.  Maybe he’d always been.  Maybe, all the signs he’d ever needed were right in front of him, but ever since he first saw the little notebook, he’d become obsessed over it.  He needed to see it in order to get answers, but maybe he didn’t.  

 

     Felix spoke up again with a harsh bit in his tone.  “He showed us everything the we needed to see to get our answers, but we didn’t do anything.”  Self loathing coated his words like frosting on a cake of worms.  “We were too busy being distracted by the bigger picture that we didn’t see what was right in front of us.  We wanted answers when all Jeongin _needed_ was help that we never tried to provide.   That’s all we cared about.  The answers.”

 

       Changbin stared.  He’d never heard Felix sound so . . . angry before.  But also so passionate.  Almost like he understood.  “Felix have you-“

 

     “No.  I haven’t ever tried to hurt myself before.  At least not consciously, but it’s really not that hard of a concept to grasp when you see it.  I saw what I was doing was wrong and hurting me.  I realized I need help, and that’s all Jeongin needed too.  He just took things a lot farther.  He didn’t tell anyone.  He didn’t realize he needed help.”  Felix grabbed Changbin’s hand, holding it tight.  “Hyung,” his voice suddenly went weak.  “All he ever needed was help.  All he ever needed was someone to see that he didn’t need answers.  He probably doesn’t know why it helps him either, or why he’s feeling what he’s feeling.  We will probably never get answers, but we can give help.”

 

     Felix broke down, hiding his face in his free hand, wiping harshly at the tears streaking down his cheeks.  Changbin gently sat next to him, wrapping his free arm around him.  

 

      “We’ll help him.  And we’ll help you too okay?  Jeongin’s gonna be okay.  You’re both gonna be okay.  We’re all gonna be okay.”  Changbin pulled Felix’s head into his chest, rocking him gently.  “Thank you for telling me.”

 

     “Y-You’re welcome.”

 

      “Why don’t we try and get some sleep now.”

 

      “Yeah.”

 

___

 

 

     The dorms were eerily quiet.  Mostly everyone had retreated off to their own rooms.  It was odd.  They usually all hung out before they went to bed.  They would watch a drama on TV or play a game or something.  They always hung out together before bed.  It was like a tradition.  

 

       Chan didn’t like the newfound silence.  

 

      He didn’t like the way the dorm felt in general.  The dorm was supposed to be home, but it didn’t feel like it.  

 

     He sat in the living room by himself for awhile before deciding he was sick of the silence.  

 

      He had to do something.  Produce a song, call his parents, talk to someone, or text them at the very least.  

 

       He stood up, thinking he was going to get his laptop, but changing his mind last minute.  Instead, he veered towards Jisung’s room.  There were some things he needed to sort out, or he felt like he’d have another disaster on his hands.

 

      He knocked quietly before opening the door.  The three were all in their own beds, seeming to avoid each other as much as possible.  

 

      Seungmin seemed to be asleep, but he breaths were fast and uneven.  Hyunjin was staring at his phone screen, but it was dark.  Jisung was just sitting, staring at the wall across from his with a blank face.        

 

      “Hey, Jisung?”  Seungmin jerked, Hyunjin glanced over, but Jisung didn’t react.  “Can I talk to you for a little bit?”

 

      A few moments of silence passed before Jisung even moved.  He slipped out of bed making as much sound as a snake and walked towards the door.  Chan moved out of the way to let him walk past before leaving himself, closing the door gently behind him.

 

     Jisung turned to face them as soon as they were out of the room.  His eyes were hooded with exhaustion and sadness.  So much so that Chan felt his own mood deteriorate.  It took a few minutes to remember why he’d called Jisung out in the first place.  

 

       “Jisung-ah . . .”  he trailed off immediatly, not quiet sure how to phrase his question.  The last thing he wanted was to upset him.  “The other night when Jae came over, he uh . . . he said that you uh tried to kill yourself.  Is . . . Is that true?”  

 

      It was hard to tell if the question upset him at all.  He didn’t make any sort of indication, a twitch of his mouth, biting his lips, or picking at his fingernails, but then again, he didn’t react at all other than a swift nod of his head.  

 

      “Okay.  He also said that . . . that you thought Jeongin was already,” Chan hesitated to say the word.  “gone.  Why did you think that?”

 

      Jisung shrugged his shoulders.  Chan just started at him for a moment, trying to figure out what to ask or say or do.  If Jisung almost went through with it once, didn’t that mean he’d do it again?  Yeah it probably did. 

 

      His mind was rushing around, grasping at random words and throwing them into jumbled sentences that he knew wouldn’t even make sense.  He was tempted to just say the first thing that came to his mind but it didn’t sound right, so he went for the scond, but that wasn’t good either.  

 

       “Jae hyung said that our emotions are there to protect us.  Do you think that’s true?”  Jisung spoke up for the first time since they’d first gotten the news.  His voice was raspy but at least he was speaking.  

 

      Chan was still so shocked that he almost forgot to answer.  “Y-Yeah.  I do?  Why do you ask?”

 

      “Because, I think they’re trying to kill me,” Jisung answered, confusion and fear dripping from his mouth.  “I think they know that things aren’t going to get any easier from here, and now they’re trying to kill me.  They don’t want me to go through this anymore.”

 

      Chan spluttered for a minute, trying to come up with how to answer, but all he could really do was reach out and pull the boy close to him.  

 

      “J-Jae-hyung,” Jisung continued to choke out.  He was crying.  “He said tha-that if I di-didn’t understand what I-I was feeling, I c-could ask someone to h-help.”

 

       “Of course you can,” Chan gasped out, grasping onto the boy desperately.  It suddenly occurred to him that he could’ve lost Jisung.  The night before, he’d been so indifferent about it, but now it was like everything was flooding back to him.  There was a chance they’d already lost Jeongin, he couldn’t bare to lose the rest of them.  They were his family.  He needed them.  “You can always ask for help.  Never feel like you can’t.  Please, if you need help, ask someone.”

 

      “Hyung, w-will you h-help me?”

 

      Chan wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt more relieved.  “Yes.  I’ll help you.  I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I’ll help you.”

 

     Jisung choked on a sob.  “Thank you hyung.”

 

      “You don’t need to thank me.  I’ll always be here to help.  Never be afraid to ask me okay?  Promise me that.”

 

       Jisung nodded.  “I promise.”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at that! We're back into the symbolism! It's not much and in a few different ways, but they each have a somewhat similar meaning. So let's start. 
> 
> Charades (Changbin) - Most people have a stereotypical view of what a suicidal or depressed person is. Someone who is bullied, maybe has problems at home, pretty quiet, seems sad. There are a lot of things that can go into making that stereotype, and while all stereotypes have to stem from some sort of truth, one person can never be stuck into one stereotype. Changbin in his section, is stuck believing in this stereotype. "He had an image of what this thing was, dancing around right in front of him, trying to match whatever image he had of that thing in his head . . ." He has this stereotypical view of a suicidal person, but Jeongin doesn't match with that and it has him guessing what Jeongin was feeling. Really deep down, he knows, but as established before, Changbin is afraid to admit what he knows is true because he knows it will hurt. 
> 
> Marco Polo (Hyunjin) - Hyunjin's section is similar in that he is searching for answers, they all are actually, but different in the fact that, he doesn't really know what he's looking for, and he's not really sure if he wants to know. I haven't really spent much time writing about Hyunjin in this story I don't think, but in this story he's kind of like that person who really doesn't like to talk and learn about these things. He's the one who gets really uncomfortable when you mention mental illness in a really serious matter, and he's the one who's never sure how to approach it. In today's society, in some places more than other's, it isn't normal to discuss mental illness with people. Everyone gets caught up in this 'Hi how are you?" "I'm good" type of life and that's what Hyunjin likes. He likes normality. So he just tries to stay blind to everything that doesn't follow that life, but at the same time find answers to his questions. 
> 
> Tag (Jisung) - This section is the most different. Jisung isn't trying to find answers, rather pick one answer. He feels like he has too many answers, and his mind is rushing so much that he can't pick on specific one that's right. He's too busy just trying to pick on answer, that he mixes them up and gets confused. Jisung, to me, has always seemed like an extremely caring person. They type of person that would always ask in a very serious way "How are you?" rather than just as a greeting. He seems to me, especially with some of the raps he writes with Chan and Chanbgin, that he would know more about this than other people. So he knows what he sees, he remembers it, he just can't pick what to call it. He can't pick one right answer out of hundreds. 
> 
> That's the symbolism for this chapter and I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> It's been really hard to get the motivation to write this month so I was really pushing it. With school, my ACT prep course (which is almost over thank and thank the lord god almighty for that. I am ecstatic, I am jubilated. The entire thing was miserable), homework, pressure to keep my good grades, another practice ACT, the musical I'm in, recent flooding in our area and having to help out with it (we've been getting pulled out of class by the school to sandbag. It's that bad), pep band, church trips, dealing with my personal life, and actually trying to get enough sleep to get me through the day I really just didn't have the energy. It's been a tiring month. Physically and emotionally. 
> 
> I got it done though and I'm really happy. It may not be my best chapter but I did my best to get it up on time. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and I'm sorry I haven't responded to any of the comments from past chapters. I'll try to do that today! I really hope you liked it! 
> 
> Next update deadline: March 1st 2019


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late! I mean it's only by one day, but I still feel bad. 
> 
> I'm actually on Spring Break right now. I would've posted yesterday, but my dad is leaving for a business trip tomorrow and he really wanted to go hiking with me and my sister before he left so we went hiking yesterday and today. It took all day and my feet hurt but I'm not going to complain. We saw some really beautiful waterfalls while we were out and got to do some rock climbing on some boulders which was pretty fun. 
> 
> Also quick announcement, someone brought it to my attention that in korea siblings seem to have the same first syllable in their name and a different second one so like Itzy's Chaeryoung and IZ*ONE's Chaeyeon and their little sister Chaemin. Because of that I changed Jeongin's older brother's name to Jeonghyun. 
> 
> Not so sure how I feel about this chapter because I kind of rushed the ending, but I'm just going to post it now and edit it later on. 
> 
> I'm going to stop tailing and get on into it. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

     “Seungmin? Seungmin, I know you’re awake.  Please answer me.”

 

        Seungmin would’ve liked nothing more than to keep ignoring him, but he’d been calling for him for awhile, and his pleading tone made it impossible to ignore.

 

       He turned over, slowly, and looked to where Hyunjin was.  Hyunjin’s eyes were confused and red with tears.  “Yes hyung?”  He tried to make his own tone sound even.  He didn’t want to break down in front of anyone.  Especially him.  He already seemed so broken.  

 

        Jeongin had been like a little brother to him.  

 

      Now though, it was hard to tell whether Jeongin was really ever happy with him, or ever even happy at all for that matter.

 

      “Do . . . Do you understand any of this?”  Hyunjin’s voice was unsure and heartbroken.

 

       “What do you mean?”

 

      Hyunjin played with the sheet of his bed, refusing to look him in the eye.  “I mean . . . What Jeongin may have been feeling?  Or why he might have done this?”

 

       “No I don’t.”  Seungmin’s voice was curt, and would’ve probably been seen as disrespectful in any normal circumstances.  “If I did, then none of this would’ve happened.  If I did I would’ve seen this in the first place.”

 

       The answer didn’t seem to make Hyunjin feel any better, but he wasn’t going to lie.  Nobody deserved that.  

 

      “It’s just . . .” Hyunjin trailed off, continuing to stare down at the sheets,”My parents never really talked about this kind of stuff, you know?  I never really learned about it.  They . . . sheltered me I guess.  I . . . I just want someone to explain to me what’s going on or at least give me an idea because I don’t know.  I mean, I get sadness and all.  I’ve been sad before but . . . this is . . . It’s something that I was never introduced to.” 

 

       There was silence for a long time.  Seungmin was sure at least ten minutes passed before he spoke up.  “Well, I don’t really understand it either, but it’s a mental illness I guess.”  He tried to answer as well as he knew how, but this was not something that normally came up in casual conversation.  He didn’t know much about it other than what he read in stories or saw in TV shows.  “It’s kind of like sadness I guess, but also a lot more than that.  I couldn’t tell you.  I mean, you could learn something if you looked online, but I’m sure it’s different from person to person.  What the internet says they should feel might not be exactly what everyone is.”

 

        Hyunjin fidgeted, as though he was uncomfortable.  “Do-do you know what he might’ve been feeling?”

 

       For some reason, that made Seungmin mad.  Maybe because if he’d known or understood, they wouldn’t be in this situation.  “I don’t know, but whatever it was it was bad enough for him to want to die.”

 

      Hyunjin froze, and Seungmin turned back over.  He didn’t try and sleep, he just didn’t want to see the hurt on the older boy’s face.  He stared at the wall instead, trying to let his mind drift to other thoughts or topics, but it never did.    

 

      This time, Seungmin was absolutely sure at least an hour passed before Hyunjin spoke up again.  “What did your letter say?”

 

      Instead of answering, Seungmin just reached under the pillow and grabbed the crinkled piece of paper he’d been hiding there.  He’d reread it hourly, hoping to find something that would help him understand, but being more and more confused each time. 

 

     He passed it over to Hyunjin before laying back down.  He didn’t need to hear Hyunjin mumble the words while he read.  He’d already memorized it.  He thought about it all day and it tormented him while he tried to sleep.

 

       He waited in silence.  He secretly hoped that Hyunjin would just leave him alone.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone.  He just wanted to be alone, and this was alone as he could get at the moment.  If he wanted to leave, he would have to go by Chan and Jisung.  He could hear their voices through the door, and something that sounded suspiciously like crying.  He didn’t think it would be appropriate to interrupt.

 

       “He was insecure?” Hyunjin said after awhile.  

 

      Seungmin turned back over.  He hoped if he just went along with it for awhile then Hyunjin would finally be quiet  “I guess.”

 

       Hyunjin frowned, looking even more confused.  “He never seemed like the type . . .”

 

       “Well he didn’t seem like the type to kill himself either so I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover.”  Seungmin snapped back.  

 

      He saw Hyunjin’s eyes widen, before the dropped, looking more hurt than they had before.  

 

     “Yeah.  I guess not.”

 

* * *

 

 

      The next morning Chan got to the JYP building at 5:45.  It wasn’t the first time he’d been there so early, but usually he was leaving at this time, sometimes with his members.  If he was on his own, he would leave ready to sleep the day away while the younger ones were at school, but when he left with his members, it was usually covered in sweat, even more exhausted, and completely satisfied whether it be from a successful run of a dance, or just having fun.  

 

         He was tired this time, but definitely not satisfied and not ready to sleep anytime soon.  It’d been a few days since he’d had the peace of sleep.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t eaten much either.  None of them had.  Other than what Chunso would bring them while they were at the hospital, they hadn’t eaten or drank anything at all.  He would have to make sure they all ate soon or someone was going to collapse.

 

     With that thought in mind, he speed up a little.  Maybe if he got things done fast enough, he could bring them breakfast.  

 

      He knocked quietly on Park Jinyoung’s office door.  He’d met the man plenty of times before, but he knew this meeting was going to be much different than the ones he’d had in the past.  Nerves settled in his stomach, not the same kind as in the survival show.  It wasn’t anticipation and excitement mixed in with a little bit of fear.  It was dread and sorrow that made him feel queasy and sick.  

 

      He swallowed thickly when he heard someone say “Come in.” 

 

       He opened the door and stepped inside before closing it quietly behind him.  “Good morning Jinyoung-nim.”

 

      He looked up from whatever paperwork he was working on and looked at him with sad and concerned eyes.  “Good morning to you too, and no need for formalities right now.  Just call me Jinyoung.”  

 

     Chan nodded awkwardly before walking up and sitting in the chair in front of Jinyoung’s desk.  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

 

      Jinyoung sighed.  “I’m going to get straight to the point.  We need to make an announcement about Jeongin’s attempt.”  Chan sucked in a breath.  He was afraid of that.  He wished that their private lives could stay private, but that wasn’t how things worked in the entertainment industry.  Everyone wanted to know everything and it all came out sooner or later.  “I’ve already considered trying to cover it up.  We could always say that there was an accident, but if news of what actually happened ever got out later on, I wouldn’t want him or anyone for that matter to deal with the repercussions of that.  I’ve already called his parents and they agreed that this is the best course of action for everyone’s sake in the long run.  I know that right now is not the time for you to want to deal with this, but this needs to be done sooner rather than later because people are asking questions.  A lot of rumors are already going around and if possible, we want to stop them soon or someone is going to get hurt.”

 

      Chan nodded again.  It made sense to tell people the truth.  He just wished it didn’t have to be so soon.  

 

       “I just wanted to ask you something before we announced this through social media.”  Jinyoung took a deep breath and Chan wasn’t sure if he’d seen the man ever look so nervous before.  “Would you like to do a press conference about this instead of an announcement through social media.”  Chan froze.  “I know it might feel too early for you to go back out into the spotlight, but even his parents agreed that they would prefer it this way.  They don’t want this to be something we’d announce like we would a comeback or some other trivial thing.  I wanted to ask if you would agree to do it.  You wouldn’t have to be the only one there.  Jeongin’s parents and older brother have all agreed to say something and any of the other member’s who wanted to could.  I would make the actual announcement so you wouldn’t need to worry about that, but seeing as you are the leader of the group, I wanted you to have the final decision on whether we do this or not.”

 

       Chan pursed his lips.  Did he really want to?  Not really?  He didn’t want Jeongin to have to deal with that as soon as he woke up.  He didn’t want the flood of comments coming and and he definitely didn’t want Jeongin to see them.  He was sure that the comments were part of what drove him to that in the first place. 

 

        But at the same time, he knew that it didn’t feel right to just write it down on a twitter.  Jeongin wasn’t some trivial thing.  He wasn’t the announcement of a reality show, a comeback, or maybe even an injury.  Jeongin was a human being.  He could’ve died.  He nearly did.  

 

      “Okay.”

 

      Jinyoung nodded and gave him a solemn look.  “I’ll set it up.  You need to find out who all is going to go with you.  It’ll probably be early in the morning.  If you’d like to go on now that’s fine.  I’m sure you’d like to head on to the hospital now.”

 

     “Y-Yes, thank you.”  He stood up and quickly started towards the door before turning back around suddenly.  His mind was rushing to much to really give him a chance to speak before he spoke.  “Can I ask you a question?”

 

     “Yes, of course.”

 

      “Jeongin . . . will he be allowed to . . . come back or . . .”  He trailed off, not really even sure what he was trying to ask.  

 

       Jinyoung sighed again.  “From the very beginning I have always believed that the nine of you have always performed best as that.  Nine.  If Jeongin still wants to, he will always have a place in that group.”

 

       “Thank you.” 

 

      He left after that, Jinyoung’s words floating around in his head.  ‘If Jeongin still wants to’.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that he might not.  He might not want to go back into the industry after what it had put him though the first time.  For some reason in Chan’s mind, Jeongin would come back to the dorm and they would help him through it, but that probably wasn’t going to be the case.  

 

     He would probably go back to Busan with his parents.  To where his family lived.  It was odd because, they’d never really gotten to know Jeongin’s family.  To Chan, they were his family, so why wouldn’t he stay?  But the truth was Jeongin had a whole other life back in Busan.  Another family that they’d never met.  

 

      If Jeongin chose to stay there, Chan didn’t think he would blame him because truthfully, if it were him, he thought he would too.

 

* * *

 

 

      “He still hasn’t woken up yet, but you can all see him now.  Just not all at once,” Dr. Kang explained.  “Maybe one or two of you at a time per the family’s request.  They don’t want him to feel overwhelmed if he wakes up soon.”

 

      There was dead silence in the waiting room.  They all wanted to see him, but no one wanted to take the chance of causing a fight.  The doctor looked at them waiting for an answer, and it didn’t seem like he would be giving them any alone time to figure it out.  

 

      “C-can I go,”  Jisung’s voice was unusually quiet.  He’d never sounded so timid before.  “Please?  I j-just need to see him.”

 

     “Me too,” Minho said suddenly.  He sounded desperate, but no one blamed him.

 

      Nobody objected, surprisingly, though some looked ready to.

 

      “Alright then, if you’d both follow me.”

 

       The two left without another word, leaving the rest behind to wait for who knows how long.  Maybe until visiting hours were over, or when the family decided they wanted alone time with him again.  Maybe they wouldn’t even be able to stand staying that long.  Maybe the would run out right after walking in.  

 

      As the doctor escorted them to Jeongin’s room, dread settled in both of their stomachs.  It was their first time seeing him since that day.  They last time they’d seen him, he’d been sick.  Throwing up in a trashcan.  They’d felt worry and dread then too, but in a different way.  That time it was more like a parent leaving their child at daycare for the first time.  Worried about how they would fare and dreading what could happen when they weren’t watching.  Now they worried about their own reactions, and dreaded what they would find.  

 

      Both of them had demonstrated some pretty destructive behavior, and neither of them put it past themselves to do it again.

 

      “He’s right in here.”

 

      Jisung walked in first.  He nearly walked right back out, but Minho was right behind him blocking the exit.  He had to go in, so he did.  

 

      Only Jeongin’s dad and older brother were inside now.  They could only assume that his mother had taking his younger brother out somewhere.  They couldn’t blame her.  If it were them they wouldn’t want a young boy to have to be around such a solemn atmosphere for so long.  

 

      Jeonghyun glanced back at them, but then turned back to his brother.  He was sitting close to his bedside, holding the younger boy’s hand gently.

 

      Minho stayed frozen next to the door, staring at the bed, while Jisng walked up to the foot of it to get a closer look.  

 

     Jeongin’s skin was an odd gray tone, and there was deep purple under his eyes.  He was engulfed in too many blankets.  There were IVs pushed into the crook of his boney arms and quiet beeping from the heart monitor next to him.  His hair looked thinner than it had in the past and his cheeks were hollowed out.

 

      Jisung crouched down, holding the edge of the hospital bed like a life line.  And then he wept.  It wasn’t the loud desperate sobs he’d heard from some of the members.  It was just silent weeping.

 

      Minho, however, didn’t make a sound.  He didn’t move.  He just let himself stand there.  He just felt empty again and it was awful because he knew he should’ve felt something.  Any normal person would’ve felt something, but he couldn’t muster up a single tear and it made him feel so wrong and broken.  

 

     So, he left.  If anyone in the room noticed, they didn’t say anything.  They just kept their focus on the boy they cared about, but he couldn’t even muster up one feeling for the boy.  Not one thing.  

 

      Hyunjin entered the room a few minutes later while Minho and Woojin disappeared from the waiting room.  

 

     Nobody said a word about it.  

 

* * *

 

      “We’re all eating dinner together tonight.”  Chan’s voice sounded loud in the silence of the waiting room.  

 

      At that point Jeongin’s mom had returned with her youngest son and politely asked Jisung and Hyunjin to leave and Woojin and Minho had finally returned from wherever they’d wandered off to.  

 

       Nobody said anything and no one questioned why, but at the same time, none of them seemed particularly thrilled about it.  No one asked what they were going to have or offered to help cook.  Nothing like they normally would and it all felt so wrong.  So, so wrong.  

 

      They left earlier than usual that night anyway.  Visiting hours weren’t even over, but he somehow managed to convince them all to leave anyway.  Maybe because now some of them had actually gotten to see him, or maybe because they knew he was going to make it through the night.  Whatever the reason, he was grateful. 

 

      It had taken a little more convincing to get Felix back into the dorm, but Changbin whispered something to him and he eventually agreed to go.  

 

      Once there, most of them retreated to their respective rooms, though some didn’t.  Instead, Woojin followed Minho into his room and Felix and Changbin stayed in the living room.  Hyunjin just wandered around the dorm, though not so subtly avoiding the bathroom.  

 

      Even after Changbin cleaned it, they tried not to go in there as much as possible.  It had been days since most of them had showered and it was definitely starting to show through with their greasy hair and the acne popping up on their usually smooth skin.  The smell probably wasn’t too great either. 

 

     Chan knew that the next time he had the chance he would have to ask their manager if he could ask about finding them a new dorm.  It wasn’t a small request, but it would probably be the only way for them to actually keep up with their hygiene.

 

      He tried to sort out everything he needed to do while he cooked.  He nearly burned the rice and almost added sugar to the food instead of salt.  It definitely wasn’t going to be the best meal he’d ever made for them, but it was something and they needed to eat.  

 

      After setting the table, he gathered up everyone.  Some came more reluctantly than others, and some started toward the kitchen before he even spoke, but they all went eventually.  

 

      It was awkward at first.  Some only poked at their food while the rest ate hesitantly.  

 

      Chan tried his best to eat with a little more enthusiasm, hoping it would coax the rest into doing the same, but even he had trouble.  

 

      The atmosphere was more tense than it had ever been.  It didn’t help that the empty chair between Woojin and Seungmin stood out like a sore thumb.  

 

       “I think we need to talk about this,” Jisung said suddenly, seeming to startle them all.  Silence fell over the table after he spoke, so he went on.  “If no one wants to then I will, but I think we all just need to talk.”

 

     “About what?” Seungmin’s voice was harsher than usual.  It was like he and Hyunjin had slowly switched.  When this had all started, Hyunjin had been the angry one and Seungmin was quiet, and sad.  Now it was the other way around and it was getting hard to get used to.  

 

      “About this,” he gestured to the table.  “About Jeongin, about what we’re feeling.  I don’t know.  We just need to talk.  We’ve been acting like complete strangers ever since this happened and feels like we’re all falling apart.”

 

      “I agree,” Woojin said suddenly.  “We’re all acting like this is going to tear us apart forever, but we’re all still here, and Jeongin’s not dead.  It looks like he’s going to be okay.  So why are we all acting like we’re all on our own now.”

 

      Silence.  Suffocating silence filled the room.  Heads hung, either in shame or in uncertainty. 

 

      “I’ve been hurting myself.”  Felix’s voice caught their attention, and his words even more.  “And before you say anything, I know.  It’s stupid.  I already saw how far it can go.  But, It started in the ambulance that day.  I-I really didn’t mean to at the time, but I h-haven’t been able to s-stop since.  I already t-told Changbin-hyung last night, but if we’re g-going to talk, then I-I want to talk about this.”

 

      Silence again.

 

      Then, “Thank you for telling us.”  Minho placed his hand on top of Felix’s gently, then took it in his own.  “And trust me, you aren’t the only one whose done some stupid stuff, before and after this all started.”  Everyone’s attention went straight to him, but no one had to ask because he felt like it was time to finally open up about this feeling, or lack of feeling.  “I talked to Woojin hyung about this the day I left the hotel.  I . . . sorry, it’s hard to explain.  Its just sometimes I just feel . . . empty if that makes any sense.  It hasn’t really happened in awhile.  Not since the survival show, but with the recent events and everything . . . it just hasn’t gone away.  I just . . . I feel like I don’t feel anything at all.  I thought that getting to see him today might, I don’t know, spark something I guess, but it didn’t.  Dancing has always helped.  It’s physical.  It’s work.  It gets my mind going and it’s a distraction from it I guess.  I don’t know if that makes any sense, but that’s the best I can come up with.”

 

      “How long has this been going on?”  Chan’s voice was quiet and so so guilty.  So many of them were struggling and he never noticed.  

 

      “It’s been on in off since about middle school, but it hasn’t been like this in awhile.  I don’t even think it’s been bad since it first started.  This . . . this is probably the worst it’s been since the survival show.”  Minho paused before adding as if he’d read his mind,”Don’t feel guilty.  I haven’t felt this way in a long time.  Only shortly before I met you and during the survival show.  there was no way you could’ve known.  I probably should’ve told you honestly, but I thought it was past me.  It was pretty stupid for me to think that.”

 

      “Hey, I’ve been thinking some stupid things to, so don’t feel bad,” Jisung said suddenly.  There was a ghost of a smile on his cheeks but it disappeared before any of them could get a good look.  “The - uh - the other night, and Channie hyung already knows this, well the - the other night I almost walked out onto the road.  I think I-I might’ve been trying to kill myself.”  Shocked silence once again.  It was nearly unbearable, so Jisung continued.  “I’m . . . I’m not really sure what I’m feeling right now honestly.  Just, that night, I was confused and I felt like . . . it felt like there wasn’t any hope left.”

 

      “I understand.”  Seungmin grabbed Jisung’s hand from across the table with his head hung down.  “It’s hard to know what to feel right now.”  Everyone stared at the two for awhile, seeming to attempt to gather their own thoughts.

 

       “Jeongin,” Changibin spoke up suddenly.  “He . . . he had this diary.  He always carried it around.  I . . . I had a chance to look inside before all of this, but I was scared and I didn’t.  I’ve been - I’ve been reading it lately and, I don’t know what I should be looking for.  I’m not even sure if I should be looking.  I’m just . . . I’m just so scared because I was hoping this could help us help him and I don’t want to lose him.  I . . . I’m not sure anymore and I’m just so afraid to try and come to a conclusion because if I do it could be the wrong one and . . . and if it’s the wrong one I’m afraid we’re going to lose him forever.”  

 

      “I think we’re all afraid of that,” Woojin added.  “It’s hard to think that we could’ve, but if we keeping thinking we will rather than trying to do something about it then we will.  I think - I think now we just need to focus on what we know.”

  

     Woojin looked around at them when Hyunjin suddenly spoke up. “I don’t know.”

 

      “What don’t you know, Jinnie?” Chan asked gently, placing a hand on his back. 

 

      “About, any of this I guess.  I’ve never heard anyone talk about this openly with me.  This is the first time . . . seeing it and I’m not sure . . . I’m just not sure about anything right now.”  Hyunjin fiddled uncomfortably with his hands.  

 

        “I don’t know any of us are sure about anything right now,” Chan said.  “I thought that I know what . . . what this was supposed to look like before now, but it’s so different.  It may look normal to an outsider, but it’s . . . it’s so different to actually experience it.” 

 

      Hyunjin just nodded.  There was no way to tell whether or not he was satisfied with the answer, but it was an answer at least.    

 

       “Did, anyone ever notice anything . . . before.  Like early on.  Maybe if we know what he's struggling with we could help him.”  Woojin suggested after a bit.

 

      There was a long pause before some spoke up.  “I always thought that there was something wrong . . . but I was never able to tell what.”  Chan looked down at the floor, guilt evident on his face.  “I don’t even think I ever really tried asking.  I mean, I did, but I never pushed him.”

 

     “Don’t feel guilty hyung,” Minho tried to comfort.  “He hid it really well.”

 

      “Did he really though?” Chan asked looking at them all and suddenly they all realized, maybe he didn’t.  They all saw that something was wrong they just didn’t act on it.  So did he really hide it as well as they were trying to convince themselves he did, or were they just too afraid to bring up the elephant in the room.  

 

       “Alright,” Felix nearly shouted so suddenly that it made them all jump.  “If you saw something, anything at all, even if it seems insignificant, say it now.  I know that I noticed somethings that I should’ve brought up a long time ago and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

 

       “He would spend hours practicing,” Hyunjin said almost immediately.  “I wasn’t sure if he was all the time, but sometimes I’d go in to the studio and it’d look like he’d been there for hours without a break.  He’d get really defensive when I’d try to get him to leave too.”

 

     Everyone took in the information, and it wasn’t long before the next person spoke up.  It was Felix again.  “Awhile back I was laying in bed with him, and he felt thin.  Not just skinny, but like, really thin.  I could feel his bones, but I thought it was just stress from the comeback causing it.  I kept thinking about asking, but I never knew how to bring it up.”

 

      “I don’t think he was sleeping well either,” Woojin added.  “I’d hear him get up in the middle of the night sometimes, it didn’t seem like he’d go back to bed for awhile either.”

 

      “He’d lash out sometimes too,”Jisung said.  “Not exactly in an angry way now that I think about it.  I’d always chalked it up to a bad day though.”

 

      “And there were times when he would act strange.”  Seungmin chimed.  “Like he’d be find one minute the next then he’d just seem upset the next.  There were times when he’d just disappear too.  Like he needed to get away or something.”

 

     Minho nodded in agreement.  “He just seemed really off for awhile.  You know, different then when we first met.  I mean, I know I didn’t know him for that long before, but I knew him.  He changed though.”

 

      “What do you think happened?” Hyunjin asked, staring down at his lap.  “Do you think we did something?”

 

     “I don’t know,” Chan answered.  “I think the only way to know is to ask him, but whether he opens up or not I think is going to be the real question.”

 

     Everyone went quiet again but it wasn’t really as awkward or as tense as before.  Maybe they all just decided that this silence was time to think and figure things out or maybe they all just felt like everything was off their chests, like burden had been lifted.  A few nodded in agreement at Chan’s words, most stared down at their laps.  Minho was playing with his mostly uneaten food and Seungmin twirled a chopstick in hand.

 

      “Guys,” Chan broke the silence after a long five minutes.  “I uh, I know this is really really last minute but um . . . this morning I talked to Jinyoung-nim and uh he wants to hold a press conference tomorrow morning to announce Jeongin’s attempt.”  They all looked at him, some of their faces neutral and other’s surprised.  He continued when none of them spoke.  “I . . . I agreed to it.  I think that it’s - that it’s the best course of action, not just for the company but for everyone.  He said I could bring whoever wanted to come and I uh . . . If any of you do, please do.  I  . . . I don’t want to be there alone.”

 

     And suddenly the silence went from calm to shocked.  Chan never admitted anything like that.  He never showed weakness, but it seemed like the entire situation had changed them all.  Whether that was for the better or not, there was really no way to tell.  

 

       “I’ll go,” Hyunjin said after a bit.  “But I don’t want to say anything.  Can I just . . . be there?”

 

      Chan sighed in relief.  “Of course.  That’s fine.”

 

       “I’ll come too,” Changbin said.  

 

       “And me, I’d like to say something too if that’s alright,” Felix asked.  Chan nodded quickly, almost desperately.  

 

      “I want to say something too,” Jisung agreed and Chan nodded again.  

 

      “I’m not sure if I want to say anything . . but I want to be there to support you all.” Minho added looking around at them all.  

 

      “I have some things I want to say so I want to go to.”  Woojin smiled slightly at them.  

 

      “I guess it looks pretty bad if I don’t come at this point?” Seungmin asked with a slight laugh, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

 

      “It kinda does,” Minho agreed.  

 

      “I guess I’m coming too then.”

 

      And suddenly, everything felt a little better.  Maybe they would turn out okay. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No symbolism this chapter. Sorry. 
> 
> This chapter was probably the hardest to write. I've been pretty stressed out these past few weeks so it's been hard to want to write. I've got a musical in one week, I'm also trying to lose weight so the diet's got me in a grumpy mood, and I've been stress eating because my grades are dropping which is not helping with the diet, I've got and ACT test on the same day as the musical, and sleep avoids me like I'm a plague so really, all I wanna do is sit and do nothing for a good few days but unfortunately I can't afford to.
> 
> On the bright side, at least Miroh was great. Definitely Stray Kids' best album so far! At least in my opinion. Chronosaurus and Maze of Memories are easily my favorite songs. What were yours?
> 
> Also, I won a prize in a writing contest! Yay! I'm thinking about posting it here for everyone to read but I'm not sure yet. I'm not sure what award I won yet so I want to find out first. I'll know soon and let me know if you'd like to see it. 
> 
> Anyway, I won't ramble anymore. Thanks so much for reading. It always means so much. The Chanhee centric story is the one I've decided to go with by the way and it's in the making along with some one shots for my other series! That story will be started as soon as this one ends! 
> 
> Buh bye! 
> 
> Next update: May 1st 2019.

**Author's Note:**

> Because this was the prologue, I kept it short. Future chapters will be in between 4,000 to 6,000 words each.
> 
> Next Update: June 1, 2018.


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